How has the Islamic civilization maintained the rich literary heritage of Ḥadīth developed by early Muslim scholars? What guarantee is there that the collections of ḥadīths in our possession have reached us accurately or that they were compiled by their purported authors? Far from being exhaustive, this article intends to provide answers to these questions. It begins by examining the procedures scholars instituted to ensure accurate transmission of Ḥadīth books. It then proceeds to study the practice of oral/aural transmission (samā‘) and public reading sessions and their influence in preserving the Ḥadīth literature. Thereafter, the article builds on three arguments that Ibn al-Wazīr al-Yamānī (d. 840 AH) posits in response to those who doubt the authorship of the major Ḥadīth collections. Before concluding, it sheds light on the usage of wijādah in terms of transmission and practice. The appendix contains diagrams on the transmission of Ṣaḥīḥ al-Bukhārī.

Procedures for Preservation

The attention and care scholars gave to the vast literature of Ḥadīth to ensure that the efforts of their predecessors were not in vain is truly awe-inspiring. They were methodical in their treatment of the Ḥadīth literature. They laid out guidelines on issues like book authorization, auditions, and the handling of manuscripts and registers. Qāḍī ‘Iyāḍ’s (d. 544 AH) al-Ilmā‘ ilā Ma‘rifat Uṣūl al-Riwāyah wa Taqyīd al-Samā‘ is among the most prominent titles on the subject.[2] Although an oft-cited authority on the subject, Qāḍī ‘Iyāḍ was by no means the first to address this topic. He drew extensively from earlier works like al-Rāmahurmuzī’s (d. 360 AH) al-Muḥaddith al-Fāṣil and al-Khaṭīb al-Baghdādī’s (d. 462 AH) al-Kifāyah fī‘ ‘Ilm al-Riwāyah and al-Jāmi‘ li Akhlāq al-Rāwī wa Ādāb al-Sāmi‘. At times, scribes would devise creative techniques to prevent confusion when reading their manuscripts. For instance, Shu‘bah ibn al-Ḥajjāj (d. 160 AH) narrated the ḥadīth of Abū al-Ḥawrā’ to a student who wrote the ḥadīth and further added the word “ḥūr ‘īn” (wide-eyed damsel) as a note beneath the name Abū al-Ḥawrā’. The reason for this peculiar note was the presence of a narrator by the name Abū al-Jawzā’ in the same generation as Abū al-Ḥawrā’. To avoid confusing the two similar yet distinct narrators, the student diligently wrote ḥūr as a note to remind him of al-Hawrā’, which is the singular form of ḥūr.[3]

Muslims rightfully pride themselves in the countless volumes Ḥadīth scholars produced in order to detail the lives of the narrators whose names fill the chains of transmissions of ḥadīths. But they did not stop there. They also wrote biographical dictionaries on the lives of the narrators who transmitted the collections that contained these ḥadīths. A researcher can easily access the biographical details of the narrators Abū Dāwūd (d. 275 AH), for instance, cites in his Sunan when transmitting a ḥadīth. He could also find the biographical details of those who transmitted the Sunan from Abū Dawūd and of those who in turn transmitted it from them, et cetera,[4] in works written for this purpose like Abū Bakr Ibn Nuqṭah’s (d. 629 AH) al-Taqyīd li Ma‘rifat Ruwāt al-Sunan wa al-Masānīd.[5] As such, the major Ḥadīth collections were transmitted by people whose lives are well documented.[6]

The tradition of oral/aural transmission (samā‘) ensured the preservation of the Ḥadīth literature. Ḥadīth scholars disseminated their works by teaching them to students, who in turn taught them to their students, ensuring scholarly supervision of these books as they were being transmitted down the generations.[7] Prior to the canonization of the Ḥadīth corpus,[8] to transmit a book for which one did not have oral/aural transmission was an offence not taken lightly in Ḥadīth circles.[9] Muḥammad ibn Ṭāhir al-Maqdisī (d. 507 AH) impugned Abū ‘Abd Allah al-Kāmikhī because he transmitted the Musnad of Imām al-Shāfi‘ī from a non-samā‘ copy.[10] Abū Bakr al-Qaṭī‘ī’s (d. 368 AH) copy of a book was destroyed in a flood, so he rewrote it from another copy. Despite having heard the original from a teacher, he was criticized for transmitting the second copy only because it lacked oral transmission.[11] Al-Ḥākim al-Naysābūrī (d. 405 AH) announced that he was in possession of a copy of al-Naḍr ibn Shumayl’s Gharīb al-Ḥadīth, but dutifully added that it lacked oral transmission.[12]

Failure to understand this culture of transmission has led Alphonse Mingana (d. 1937) to erroneously criticize the authorship of Ṣaḥīḥ al-Bukhārī. Based on a manuscript—perhaps the earliest extant[13]—via the recension of Abū Zayd al-Marwazī (d. 371 AH) from al-Firabrī (d. 320 AH), the prime transmitter from al-Bukhārī, Mingana argues that since the chains of transmission include the name of al-Bukhārī,[14] the Ṣaḥīḥ could not have been authored by him, but rather by a later source like al-Firabrī or al-Marwazī.[15] Apart from the fact that this objection indicates a lack of awareness regarding the methodology of transmitting Ḥadīth books, it is problematic on several grounds. To mention one, in addition to al-Firabrī, there are multiple recensions of Ṣaḥīḥ al-Bukhārī like that of Ibrāhīm ibn Ma‘qil (d. 295 AH) and Ḥammād ibn Shākir (d. 311 AH);[16] likewise, besides al-Marwazī, there are other routes from al-Firabrī, such as Abū Isḥāq al-Mustamlī (d. 376 AH) and Abū al-Haytham al-Kushmīhanī (d. 389 AH). Based on the chains found in the aforementioned manuscript, if it is argued that al-Firabrī or al-Marwazī authored the Ṣaḥīḥ, how does one account for parallel chains through the other recensions/routes from al-Bukhārī that mention the same ḥadīths?[17]

Public reading sessions of Ḥadīth books also helped to ensure their textual integrity. Apart from the cross-analysis of the audited books, details about the participants in these reading sessions were methodically documented. Based on information detailed in manuscript notes and reading certificates, a recent study restructured a micro-history of the reading sessions of Ibn ‘Asākir’s (d. 571 AH) mammoth Tārīkh Madīnat Dimashq in Damascus, determining thereby “the background of individual participants in terms of the cultural milieu, social position and status.”[18] Abū Bakr al-Bayhaqī’s multi-volume compendium, al-Sunan al-Kubrā, is another prime example.[19] Abū ‘Amr Ibn al-Ṣalāḥ (d. 643 AH) dictated the entire book to a congregation of scholars over 757 sessions. The following are some of the points that were noted after he dictated the eighth volume: the number of sessions held; personal details of the attendees, e.g. names, lineages, and honorifics; the state of the attendees, e.g. who spoke during the dictation; the date of completion; the venue; and the name of the registrar.[20]

Considering the minutiae noted down about the attendees, one gets a sense of how scrupulous Ḥadīth scholars were in their analysis of the books they were dictating. That Tārīkh Madīnat Dimashq and al-Sunan al-Kubrā are not from the six canonical books is significant as it demonstrates the care given to more important, and less voluminous, collections. The proverbial audition of Ṣaḥīḥ al-Bukhārī in Damascus around the year 666 AH headed by the celebrated Ḥadīth scholar, Sharaf al-Dīn al-Yūnīnī (d. 701 AH), and the renowned linguist, Ibn Mālik (d. 672 AH), in a gathering of scholars who utilized critically acclaimed manuscripts and recensions of the Ṣaḥīḥ for cross-referencing is a case in point.[21] ‘Abd Allah ibn Sālim al-Baṣrī (d. 1134 AH) is on record for his meticulous treatment of the six canonical books and Musnad Aḥmad, spending twenty years in refining and cross-referencing his personal copy of Ṣaḥīḥ al-Bukhārī with other manuscripts.[22]

Ibn al-Wazīr’s Rejoinder

Ibn al-Wazīr al-Yamānī (d. 840 AH) responds to a skeptic by discussing in length why it is unreasonable to doubt the attribution of the major books of Ḥadīth to their purported authors. It is beyond the scope of this article to present his entire exposé, but we will build on three of his main arguments.

First, doubting the ascription of the major Ḥadīth compilations to their respective authors if carried to its logical conclusion will lead to doubting the ascription of transmitted books in all other fields.[23] If a person maintains such a profound level of skepticism of written sources, it becomes nearly impossible for him to function effectively in the world. Al-‘Izz ibn ‘Abd al-Salām (d. 660 AH) posits a similar argument and then states, “Whoever assumes that all these people erred in that [i.e. transmitting these books] has in fact himself erred. Were it not for the permissibility of relying on these books, countless benefits in medicine, grammar, and language would be obstructed.”[24] It is disingenuous to accept the authorship of books on history and language, for example, and not the Ḥadīth literature when the Islamic civilization has given unprecedented care to maintain the latter.[25]

Second, overall knowledge that these books were compiled by their respective authors is definitively known (ma‘lūm bi al-ḍarūrah) to the point that there is no reason to doubt their ascription.[26] Two centuries earlier, Ibn al-Ṣalāḥ (d. 643 AH) had already noted that the major Ḥadīth books have circulated too widely to be tampered with or interpolated,[27] let alone have their authorship doubted.[28] A brief survey of the Muwaṭṭa’’s immediate transmission may help to understand this better. Muḥammad al-Zurqānī (d. 1122 AH) writes that the following number of narrators, distributed geographically, have transmitted the Muwaṭṭa’ directly from Imām Mālik: seventeen from Madinah, two from Makkah, ten from Egypt, twenty-seven from Iraq, thirteen from Andalusia, two from Kairouan, two from Tunis, and seven from the Levant.[29] More than the their numbers, the staggering geographical diversity of the narrators demonstrates the point being made here. Taking Ṣaḥīḥ al-Bukhārī as a case study, the appended diagrams illustrate how widely it has been transmitted.[30]

Finally, the fact that countless manuscripts of these Ḥadīth collections in various parts of the Muslim world concur on the presence of their ḥadīths,[31] as well as multifarious commentaries,[32] secondary sources, and supplementary works throughout history all converging on referencing these ḥadīths to their respective compilations establishes confidence in the credibility of their authorship.[33] Moreover, there are numerous cases of inter-textual and contemporaneous citations of early compilations. In al-Tārīkh al-Kabīr, al-Bukhārī makes reference to his Ṣaḥīḥ;[34] in his Sunan, al-Tirmidhī also makes reference to the Ṣaḥīḥ.[35] According to Ockham’s Razor, when provided with two competing explanations, a person should opt for the simpler one. Given the preponderance of evidence, it is more reasonable, and a simpler proposition, to accept the ascription of the major Ḥadīth collections to their purported authors than believe in a wide-spread collusion of false attribution.

The Usage of Non-Samā‘ Copies

It may be useful to shed light on the concept of wijādah, that is, to find and then transmit ḥadīths from a collection for which one does not have transmission or authorization.[36] When studying the debate on the usage of wijādah as a mode of transmission,[37] one needs to bear in mind the bifurcation of the history of Ḥadīth studies into the era before the crystallization of ḥadīths in books and the era after it. [38] By the early 5th century, it was untenable that a person could exclusively transmit a narration not recorded in any earlier Ḥadīth work.[39] Abū Bakr al-Bayhaqī (d. 458 AH) writes that during his time if someone were to present a ḥadīth that was not already recorded, it would be rejected.[40] After this point, the primary function of chains of transmission and authorizations was to uphold the revered tradition of isnād, which “is a unique source of ennoblement,” and attain blessings by remaining connected to the Prophet (peace and blessings be upon him), because the main corpus of ḥadīths was already stabilized.[41] This explains why overtime scholars became relatively lenient on the stringent conditions that early scholars placed on the oral/aural transmission of Ḥadīth collections. Although it is difficult to pinpoint the exact date when this shift took place, an incident involving Abū Ṭāhir al-Silafī (d. 576 AH) and ‘Abd al-Ghanī al-Maqdīsī (d. 600 AH) hints to this transition. [42]

In order to transmit ḥadīths from a collection, scholars now turned their focus to the authenticity of the copy and its correct ascription.[43] The process of evaluating manuscripts is more than just relying on their chains of transmission or dating their parchment; rather, Miklos Muranyi explains, it is judged by “wholistic study of structure, technique, and scribal notes in addition to comparative analysis of cross-references and collated texts.”[44] In the 8th century, Ibn Kathīr (d. 774 AH) raised the question of a person who transmits a Ḥadīth collection like Ṣaḥīḥ al-Bukhārī from his teacher and then finds a copy of that collection, which was not cross-referenced with the teacher’s copy nor does he find an attestation of his audition on it, but he believes it to be an authentic copy—can he transmit from it? Although the majority of early Ḥadīth scholars prohibited such a practice, Ayyūb al-Sakhtiyānī (d. 131 AH) and Muḥammad al-Bursānī (d. 203 AH) held that there was dispensation for him to transmit from it.[45] Ibn Kathīr adds that this is the position he inclines towards.[46] He was not alone in his inclination. Al-Dhahabī (d. 748 AH) and Ibn Rajab al-Ḥanbalī (d. 795 AH) state that latter-scholars maintained much dispensation in this regard.[47] It is, therefore, anachronistic to apply the negative scholarly attitude towards the usage of non-source copies for transmission before the crystallization of ḥadīths to the subsequent era.

Apart from transmission, Ibn al-Ṣalāḥ explains that it is permissible to practice upon what one reliably finds in Hadīth books through wijādah.[48] Based on scholarly acceptance of a letter the Prophet had sent with ‘Amr ibn Ḥazm to the people of Yemen on almsgiving and indemnities, one can make a case for consensus upon this issue.[49] ‘Umar ibn Khaṭṭāb abandoned his own view on indemnities based on ‘Amr ibn Ḥazm’s letter that was found in the possession of his family;[50] This was also the case with other Companions and Successors.[51] As Ibn ‘Abd al-Barr (d. 463 AH) explains, Scholars from all regions have unanimously relied upon the letter of ‘Amr ibn Ḥazm.[52]

The relevance of this discussion cannot be overstated because, as Dr. Subhī al-Ṣāliḥ explains, after the advent of the printing press, usage of Ḥadīth books for the most part are through the mode of wijādah.[53] Early scholars were cautious towards the usage of non-samā‘ copies out of fear of interpolation;[54] printing has considerably assuaged this concern.[55] Shaykh Ḥatīm al-‘Awnī aptly observes, “It is ironic that critics would object to the validity of Hadīth books that are found through wijādah when the very books they cite concerning wijādah are themselves found through wijadah.”[56] That being said, the practice of oral/aural transmission of Hadīth books, particularly the six canonical works, has continued unabated in various institutions and seminars throughout the world until the present day.

Conclusion

Far from leaving the literary heritage of their predecessors unattended, Ḥadīth scholars expended considerable energy in maintaining its integrity. From the tradition of oral/aural transmission, to careful handling of manuscripts, to meticulous dictation sessions, the Islamic civilization’s unparalleled precision vis-à-vis the Ḥadīth literature develops within the hearts of its readers confidence in its authorship. Unwarranted skepticism of such a robust system can lead a person to doubt all transmitted knowledge. A person is required to take more leaps of faith in doubting the ascription of books that were transmitted from their authors by a multitude of narrators hailing from diverse regional backgrounds and were cited by a dizzying array of sources over a millennium.

Appendix

A central theme of this article was to establish that the major books of Ḥadīth have been transmitted so widely that it is unreasonable to doubt their authorship. Here we will take Ṣaḥīḥ al-Bukhārī as a case study to better understand this phenomenon. In his doctoral thesis,[57] Dr. Jumu‘ah ‘Abd al-Ḥalīm studies in detail the various routes and recensions of Ṣaḥīḥ al-Bukhārī. Adapted from his study, the following diagrams demonstrate how widely the Ṣaḥīḥ has been transmitted. To be sure, these diagrams are the tip of the iceberg in terms of the actual transmission of the Ṣaḥīḥ.

I have chosen to outline only the chains of the Mamluk era Ḥadīth master, Ibn Ḥajar al-‘Asqalānī (d. 852 AH).[58] While mapping out his genealogy of the Ṣaḥīḥ, he leaves out some recensions and routes. For instance, he transmits the Ṣaḥīḥ via multiple routes that culminate at four students of al-Bukhārī, viz. Muḥammad ibn Yūsuf al-Firabrī (d. 320 AH), Ibrāhīm ibn Ma‘qil (d. 295 AH), Ḥammād ibn Shākir (d. 311 AH), and Abū Ṭalḥah Manṣūr al-Bazdawī (d. 329 AH), but he does not include the transmission of Ṭāhir ibn Muḥammad al-Nasafī.[59] Furthermore, he identifies nine routes from al-Firabrī, excluding thereby the transmissions of Muḥammad ibn Khālid al-Firabrī, Aḥmad al-Firabrī (d. 371 AH), Abū Ḥāmid al-Nu‘aymī (d. 386 AH), Abū Bakr al-Ishtīkhanī (d. 388 AH), et al.[60] From a wide array of routes that Ibn Ḥajar maps out, I selected only two routes for the purpose of brevity. Hence, from a pool of twelve transmitters in the third stratum of transmission, I sufficed on the transmissions of Abū Dharr al-Harawī (d. 434 AH) and Karīmah al-Marwaziyyah (d. 463 AH).

Figure 1 details the routes from the third stratum via al-Firabrī from al-Bukhārī. Figures 2 and 3 continue further by tracing the transmissions of Abū Dharr and Karīmah al-Marwaziyyah until Ibn Ḥajar. Figure 4 traces the transmission of three non-Firabrī recensions from al-Bukhārī. The biographical information of the transmitters cited in the diagrams is easily accessible. To avoid enlarging the diagrams, their entire names were not mentioned.

[2] See Ṣaqar, Introduction to al-Ilmā‘, p.22. In chapters 24-26 of his Muqaddimah, Ibn al-Ṣalāḥ expands on the subject, and those who wrote glosses on his book further built upon his observations. See Ibn al-Ṣalāḥ, Ma‘rifat Anwā‘ ‘Ilm al-Ḥadīth, pp.128-236.

[3] See ‘Iyāḍ, al-Ilmā’, p.155. Al-Ḥasan al-Saghānī (d. 650 AH), who wrote one the most reliable manuscripts of Ṣaḥīḥ al-Bukhārī, is noted for his unique style of writing. For instance, beneath the letter sīn, he would write a letter sīn in a smaller font to avoid confusing it for the letter shīn. On al-Ṣaghānī’s style of writing, see Khān, Introduction to al-Murtajal, p.11; Abū Ghuddah, Footnotes on Taṣḥīḥ al-Kutub, p.28.

[5] Ibn Nuqṭah writes that it is nearly impossible for anyone to encompass all the transmitters of Ḥadīth books, so he will only mention the most prominent among them. Ibn Nuqṭah, al-Taqyīd, vol.1, p.130. Taqī al-Dīn al-Fāsī (d. 832 AH) wrote an addendum to Ibn Nuqṭah’s book.

[6] Other resources for the biographies of literature-transmitters include the athbāt, fahārīs, and ma‘ājim catalogues, which ‘Abd al-Ḥayy al-Kattānī (d. 1962) describes in the following words, “mashyakhah is a catalogue wherein a Ḥadīth scholar gathers the names of his teachers and his narrations from them. People later began referring to it as mu‘jam when they would gather the names of the teachers separately in alphabetical order; thus, the usage of mu’jams gained currency alongside mashyakhas. The Andalusians use the term barnāmaj.” See al-Kattānī, Fahras al-Fahāris, vol.1, p.67; cf. ‘Awwāmah, Tadrīb al-Rāwī, vol.2, pp.420-21, 564; cf. vol.4, p.267 [for the vowelization of these terms, see ibid.].

[8] As will be demonstrated shortly, the shift in scholarly attitude towards the usage of non-samā‘ copies was gradual and did not take effect immediately after the period of canonization.

[9] This was carried out mainly through one of three modes: (1) hearing a narrator read/recite ḥadīths aloud (2) reading a text aloud to a teacher (3) being present while a text was read aloud. See Davidson, Carrying on the Tradition, p.80.

[13] Only 52 folios of this manuscript are available, comprising the chapters of Zakāh, Ṣawm, and Ḥajj, in the Mingana Collection at the Cadbury Research Library. Based on the style of its script and its authorization notes (samā‘āt), the manuscript can be dated either to the lifetime of al-Marwazī or the transmitter from him. See al-Sallūm, Introduction to al-Mukhtaṣar al-Naṣīḥ, pp.76-77; cf. Blecher, Said the Prophet of God, pp.5-6.

[15] Mingana, An Important Ms. of Bukhārī’s “Ṣaḥīḥ, in the Journal of the Royal Asiatic Society of Great Britain and Ireland, no.2 (1936), p.289.

[16] Ibrāhīm ibn Ma‘qil’s recension is preserved in Abū Sulaymān al-Khattābī’s (d. 388 AH) A‘lām al-Ḥadīth, one of the earliest commentaries on Ṣaḥīḥ al-Bukhārī, as the author himself explains in the introduction. While commentating, however, al-Khaṭṭābī generally does not cite the ḥadīths in their entirety. See Muḥammad Āl Sa‘ūd, Introduction to A‘lām al-Ḥadīth, vol.1, p.76. For a handful of narrations of the Ṣaḥīḥ via the recension of Ibrāhim ibn Ma‘qil and Ḥammād ibn Shākir found in secondary sources, see Jumu‘ah, Riwāyāt al-Jāmi‘ al-Ṣaḥīḥ wa Nusakhuhū, pp.145-56, 164-69.

[17] Al-Sallūm, Risālah fī Radd Shubah Minjānā, pp.9-10. The cited reference is an appraisal of Mingana’s criticisms in An Important Manuscript of the Traditions of al-Bukhārī.

[18] Konrad Hirschler, The Written Word in the Medieval Period, p.32 ff.

[19] From the fifth century AH, details of auditions were systemically documented. In addition to the names of the attendees, the date and venue of the audition and the state and sitting arrangements of the audience were noted. See Davidson, Carrying on the Tradition, p.87.

[20] A total of ninety sessions were held for the 8th volume, i.e. sessions no.527-617, it was completed on 15/16, Jumādā al-Ūlā, 634 AH, the venue was Dār al-Ḥadīth al-Ashrafiyyah in Damascus, and the registrar was ‘Abd al-Raḥmān ibn ‘Alī al-Dimashqī. See the addendum to the 8th volume of al-Sunan al-Kubrā [Hyderabad Deccan edition], pp.346-50; cf. Abū Ghuddah, Ṣafḥah Mushriqah, p.103.

[23] Ibn al-Wazīr, al-‘Awāṣim wa al-Qawāṣim, vol.1, pp.302-4. Also see Motzki, The Question of the Authenticity of Muslim Traditions Reconsidered: A Review Article, in Method and Theory in the Study of Islamic Origins, pp.242-44.

[27] Ibn al-Wazīr explains that a sign that the major Ḥadīth books have not been later interpolated is the absence of politically or theologically motivated forgeries in an authentic compilation like Ṣaḥīḥ al-Bukhārī that would have granted them the status of authenticity. See Ibn al-Wazīr, al-‘Awāṣim wa al-Qawāṣim, p.306. In a similar vein, the fact the Ḥadīth compilers cited defective chains is an indication that they did not fabricate the reports they transmitted. In the case of the Muwaṭṭa’, for instance, Herald Motzki explains, if Mālik was fabricating prophetic ḥadīths to support his positions, why would he then quote the opinions of al-Zuhrī and not back project them also as prophetic reports? Furthermore, if Mālik—as well as the other compilers—forged the ḥadīths in the Muwaṭṭa’, why would he cite broken chains of transmission for certain ḥadīths and not embellish them as continuous chains. This demonstrates that they were transmitting reliably what they heard from their informants. See Motzki, The Jurisprudence of Ibn Shihāb az-Zuhrī: A Source-critical Study, pp.21-22. For an answer to a potential objection to this line of reasoning, see al-A‘ẓamī, Studies in Early Ḥadīth Literature, pp.219-22.

[28] Ibn al-Ṣalāḥ, al-Muqaddimah, p.17. Ibn al-Ṣalāḥ’s concerns regarding the grading of ḥadīths not graded by earlier scholars due to the unsatisfactory state of the transmitters is to be understood in reference to rare Ḥadīth collections (ajzā’) that were no adequately transmitted, not the major books of Ḥadīth. For more on this, see ‘Awwāmah, Annotations on Tadrīb al-Rāwī, vol.2, p.539 ff.

[30] Al-Dhahabī does not accept the authenticity al-Firabrī’s statement, “90,000 people heard the Ṣaḥīḥ of Muḥammad ibn Ismā‘īl, and no one besides me remains who transmits it from him.” See al-Dhahabī, Siyar, vol.15, p.12. Shaykh ‘Awwāmah explains that his critique is unwarranted. See ‘Awwāamh, Annotation on Tadrīb al-Rāwī, vol.2, pp.365-66.

[31] The Mu’assasat Āl al-Bayt catalogue of Hadīth manuscripts lists 2327 manuscripts of the Ṣaḥīḥ that were written in various periods of history and are located in libraries throughout the world. See al-Fahras al-Shāmil li al-Turāth al-‘Arabī al-Makhṭūṭ, pp.484-565.

[33] See Ibn al-Wazīr, al-‘Awāṣim wa al-Qawāṣim, vol.1, p.306-7. The author’s own summary of these arguments can be found in al-Rawḍ al-Bāsim, p.19 ff.

[34] Under the entry of ‘Abd Allah ibn Abī Bakr, he alludes to the incident of the migration when ‘Abd Allah would come visit the Prophet and Abū Bakr in the cave of Thawr. He then writes that he explained this in al-Musnad. Bearing in mind that the title of Ṣaḥīḥ al-Bukhārī is al-Jāmi‘ al-Musnad al-Ṣaḥīḥ and that the incident in reference is cited in the Ṣaḥīḥ (no.3905/5807), here al-Bukhārī is referring to his Ṣaḥīḥ. There is a possibility that he is referring to his other book entitled al-Musnad al-Kabīr. See al-Bukhārī, al-Tārīkh al-Kabīr, vol.5, p.2, no.3. He also makes references to his other works. See al-Bukhārī, al-Tārīkh al-Kabīr, vol.7, p.87, no.387/vol.2, p.60, no.1683; ‘Abd al-Raḥmān al-Shāyi‘, al-Aḥādīth allatī Qāl fīhā al-Imām al-Bukhārī lā Yutāba‘ ‘alayhī fi al-Tārīkh al-Kabīr, pp.21-22.

[35] Al-Tirmidhī mentions in reference to a particular chain of transmission that “He [al-Bukhārī] included it in his Kitāb al-Jāmi‘” which is the earliest contemporaneous mention of al-Bukhārī’s Ṣaḥīḥ. See al-Tirmidhī, al-Sunan, vol.1, p.70, no.17; Brown, The Canonization of al-Bukhārī and Muslim, p.96.

[38] Shaykh Ḥamzah al-Malibārī distinguishes between what he terms “the phase of transmission” and “the post-transmission phase.” The phase of transmission begins from the era of the Companions until roughly the end of the 5th century (with al-Bayhaqī [d. 458 AH]) after which the post-transmission phase commences. He states the early scholars (mutaqaddimūn) are the prolific ḥadīth memorizers of the first phase, particularly the experts among them, and the latter-day scholars (muta’akhkhirūn) are those from the second phase. The most salient feature of the first phase is that ḥadīths were transmitted therein via direct chains of transmission whereas in the subsequent phase reliance was predominantly on earlier written works. See al-Malibārī, Naẓarāt Jadīdah fī ‘Ulūm al-Ḥadīth, pp.13-16; idem, al-Muwāzanah bayn al-Mutaqaddimīn wa al-Muta’akhkhirīn, pp.57-62.

[39] It is difficult to pinpoint an exact date for this phenomenon; consequently, opinions vary in this regard. Abū ‘Amr Ibn al-Murābiṭ (d. 752 AH) states, “[prophetic] Reports have already been compiled and narrator criticism no longer serves its purpose; in fact, it ceased at the close of the 4th century.” See al-Sakhāwī, Fatḥ al-Mughīth, vol.4, p.445. Shaykh Ḥātim al-‘Awnī opines that all ḥadīths were recorded arguably by the close of the 3rd century, and unquestionably by the 4th century. See al-‘Awnī, al-Manhaj al-Muqtaraḥ, pp.52, 61.

[52] Ibn ‘Abd al-Barr writes, “The consensus of scholars from all regions upon the dictates of ‘Amr ibn Ḥazm’s ḥadīth is a clear proof of its authenticity.” See Ibn ‘Abd al-Barr, al-Istidhkār, vol.8, p.37.

[54] Al-Dhahabī writes, “The criticism of some scholars that they [the ḥadīths of ‘Amr ibn Shu‘ayb – his father – his grandfather] are ṣaḥifah, whose transmission is via non-oral wijādah, is from the perspective that interpolations can creep into ṣaḥīfahs, particularly in that era because there were no vowel marks or diacritics as opposed to studying directly from teachers. See al-Dhahabī, Siyar, vol.5, p.174.

]]>https://ahadithnotes.com/2018/03/19/the-preservation-of-the-%e1%b8%a5adith-literature/feed/0IMG-20180319-WA0021mzaman36The Life and Works of the Hanafī Jurist and Hadīth Scholar Qāsim ibn Qutlūbughāhttps://ahadithnotes.com/2017/12/14/the-life-and-works-of-the-hanafi-jurist-and-hadith-scholar-qasim-ibn-qutlubugha/
https://ahadithnotes.com/2017/12/14/the-life-and-works-of-the-hanafi-jurist-and-hadith-scholar-qasim-ibn-qutlubugha/#respondThu, 14 Dec 2017 19:38:22 +0000http://ahadithnotes.com/?p=1236The Life and Works of the Hanafī Jurist and Hadīth Scholar Qāsim ibn Qutlūbughā

By Shaykh Muhammad ‘Awwāmah

Translated by Muntasir Zaman

Introduction

His name is Zayn al-Dīn Abū al-‘Adl Qāsim ibn Qutlūbughā al-Jamālī al-Hanafī, better known as ‘Allāmah Qāsim. He was born in Cairo in 802 AH where he lived until his demise in Rabī‘ al-Ākhir 879 AH. Growing up as an orphan, he began his studies at a tender age and would occupy himself with tailoring, but eventually focused on acquiring knowledge – after exerting himself therein, he shone and showed brilliance. He began his literary career early, authoring his first book at the age of 18 on inheritance. From a galaxy of teachers, his most prominent teacher in Hadīth was Hāfiẓ Ibn Hajar and in Fiqh and legal theory Sirāj al-Dīn Qāri’ al-Hidāyah and al-Kamāl Ibn al-Humām. His student Hāfiẓ al-Sakhāwī said:

His dedication increased by frequenting the company of Ibn al-Humām. From 825 AH to Ibn al-Humām’s demise in 861 AH, he studied every book that was taught in his circle and learnt the most from him. The books he studied include the first quarter of his commentary on al-Hidāyah, part of Tawdīh of Sadr al-Sharī‘ah, and the entire al-Musāyarah (of Ibn al-Humām). […] He also studied books of Arabic literature and poetry, memorizing a significant portion thereof.[1]

Academic standing

His teachers respected him due to his academic excellence. For instance, Hāfiẓ Ibn Hajar authored al-Īthār bi Ma‘rifat Rijāl al-Āthār upon his request to compile a book on the transmitters in Imām Muhammad’s Kitāb al-Āthār. He then – at the age of 33 – studied it under Ibn Hajar, who authorized and described him as, “The eminent Shaykh, the qualified and unique Hadīth scholar. He contributed [to the class] and shared his observations on several places that were noted down and further illuminated the book.”[2] Later on in another occasion, he described him as “The authority, the learned, the Hadīth scholar, the jurist, and the prolific memorizer.” Bear in mind that the one conferring these accolades is Hāfiẓ Ibn Hajar, who requires no introduction. Al-Sakhāwī said:

A learned scholar with a significant command of the various sciences, who has a repertoire of memorized literature and is skillfully aware of the legal rulings of his school – including the many finer detail therein – and advanced in the field; he is articulate and proficient in debating and silencing his interlocutors […] I heard him say that he collected the unique narrations or narrators from [Sunan] al-Dāraqutnī that are not found in the six major Hadīth books from memory.[3]

His books bear testimony to his expertise in Fiqh and Hadīth. He supplemented what the likes of Imāms al-Zayla‘ī, al-‘Irāqī, and Ibn Hajar – whose memory and scope is well-known – were unable to locate. In Munyat al-Alma‘ī, he located the narrations al-Zayla‘ī missed in his takhrīj of al-Hidāyah; in Ithāf al-Ahyā’, he located what al-‘Irāqī missed in his takhrīj of al-Ihyā’; and in his notes on al-Dirāyah and parts of Munyat al-Alma‘ī, he located what Ibn Hajar missed in al-Dirāyah, which is an abridgment of Nasb al-Rāyah.

“Despite his prestige, he did not assume a suitable post; he spent most of his life in the Ashrafiyyah Sūfī lodge. At times, he was sought after by kings and emirs, but he would not allow that to affect him; instead he would hasten to spend.”[4]

Works

‘Allāmah Qāsim was a prolific writer: between short treatises and voluminous compendia, he penned over 80 books, some of which he never managed to complete. His student and chief biographer Hāfiẓ al-Sakhāwī enumerated 87 books in various fields, mostly in Hadīth, its branches, and transmitters, and then in Fiqh. That is only the number he came across, not the total number. Unfortunately, only a fraction of these books was published even though most of them deserve to be published for specialists in Hadīth and Fiqh, particularly his takhrīj works on the famous books in circulation. [At the time of writing this biography] Three of his works were published: (1) Tāj al-Tarājim, brief biographies of Hanafī authors; (2) a gloss on Ibn al-Humām’s al-Musāyarah – al-Sakhāwī did not mention this; and (3) Munyat al-Alma‘ī fī mā Fāt min Takhrīj Ahādīth al-Hidāyah li al-Zayla‘ī.[5]

Students

He did not have many students. This was a result of his scholarly feud with his contemporaries that forced him into seclusion; he was even harmed by the few who studied and benefitted from him. But this seclusion allowed him to write and contribute extensively. Some of his students are: (1) Shams al-Dīn Muhammad ibn ‘Umar al-Maghribī, who studied Fiqh and legal theory from him; (2) Shams al-Dīn Muhammad ibn ‘Abd al-Rahmān al-Sakhāwī, the well-known Hāfiẓ who said, “I sat in his company early on and heard from him – with my father – the musalsal, which he heard from al-Wāsitī, noted many of his poetry and observations, and I read to him Sharh Alfiyyat al-‘Irāqī;” (3) Sharaf al-Dīn Yahyā al-Munāwī, who is mentioned among the students of Ibn al-Humām; (4) Badr al-Dīn al-Hasan ibn ‘Alī al-Sawwāf al-Hamawī al-Qāhirī al-Hanafi; and (5) Muhibb al-Dīn ibn Muhammad Ibn Shihnah.

These five were also his classmates when they studied under Ibn al-Humām and others; yet they studied under him, and among them are those who are older than him, which is a sign of his excellence and brilliance. As a result, Ibn al-Humām chose him to be his successor. In Fayd al-Bārī, ‘Allāmah al-Kashmīrī writes, “Near his demise, Ibn al-Humām was asked who would take his seat after him, so he replied: ‘Allāmah Qāsim ibn Qutlubughā.”

Demise

Hāfiẓ al-Sakhāwī said:

For a long time he suffered from severe sickness, urinary obstruction, kidney stones, and other illnesses; he moved to several places for treatment […] until he passed away on the night of Thursday 4th of Rabī‘ al-Ākhir 879 AH. His funeral prayer was conducted the following day in a large congregation, and he was buried by the gravesite attributed to ‘Uqbah near his parents and children. People grieved over his passing. Allah have mercy on him and us.

Allah have mercy on him, reward him, and beautify his abode in the hereafter. And may He facilitate for scholars and researchers to publish the works of this Imām in a beautiful form that fits his academic stature, so that his desire to benefit and serve this pristine religion be fulfilled – that is not difficult for Allāh.

[The following is an abridged translation of Dr. Salāh Abū al-Hājj’s discussion on comparative Fiqh. The author describes three methods of studying the differences of the jurists. The third method, better known as comparative Fiqh, is a modern concept that traces its origins to the 20th century Egyptian scholar Ahmad Ibrāhīm. Although the study of scholarly differences is integral to comprehension of Fiqh, the author concludes, its study should be undertaken only after developing proficiency in knowledge; a premature exposure to scholarly differences can leave a novice confused. For the purpose of brevity, only relevant parts were translated. For the entire discussion, see Abū al-Hājj, al-Madkhal al-Mufassal ilā al-Fiqh al-Hanafī, pp.435-42]

Fiqh al-Ikhtilāf is a study of the opinions of the jurists with or without an expose of their respective evidences and answers to opposing views. The primary objective here is the differences of the jurists. General Fiqh texts only tangentially mention opposing views to underpin the strength of the preferred view whereas books of Ikhtilāf are written with the purpose of presenting the differences of the jurists whether the author only mentions their opinions or supports the evidence of the preferred view of his madhhab. This discipline traces its origins to the beginning of Fiqh itself; it is part of the study of Fiqh and without it Fiqh is not firmly established. In the 2nd century, scholars compiled Hadīth collections on the reports and differences of the Companions and Successors on legal issues; the discipline further evolved during the era of the mujtahid scholars where they began citing legal issues alongside the disagreements therein.[1]

‘Ilm al-Khilāf teaches the method of critically engaging the evidence of the opposing view in accordance to the protocols of debate and argumentation. It is defined as a study of the methods of presenting shar‘ī evidence, answering critiques, and dismantling disputative arguments by adducing evincive proofs.[2] Tāshkubrī Zādah writes, “The science of disputation and differences can be placed among the branches of Usūl al-Fiqh.”[3] Abū Zayd al-Dabūsī (d. 430 AH) is regarded as the founder of ‘Ilm al-Khilāf as a result of the widespread and fervent inter-madhhab debates during the 5th and 6th centuries.[4] Through the vast literary wealth these debates have left, it is clear that each legal school has cogent evidences to support their respective views. Based on the definition I provided – that is, a description of the differences of the scholars, not restricted to deconstructing the opposing opinion – ‘Ilm al-Khilāf is more comprehensive: it includes the first generations of scholarship and continues to this day.

Al-Fiqh al-Muqāran is a comparative study and evaluation of the opinions and proofs of the jurists by someone who neither ascribes to the legal schools nor complies to their legal theory. As such, the Fiqh of this individual is not acknowledged by the scholars of the legal schools since he does not adopt any of their juristic methodologies nor an accurate method of evaluation, due to the absence of reliable documented principles like the legal theory of the madhhabs. If an adherent of a reliable legal school engages in this manner of comparative Fiqh, he will not be acknowledged because he has not reached a satisfactory level of expertise in Fiqh where he possesses the juristic capability to evaluate opinions based on established principles. This discipline is a product of the present era. Dr. Muhammad ‘Uthmān Shabbīr writes, “’Allāmah Ahmad Ibrāhīm (d. 1945) is the leading jurist of the time who remodeled the style of Islamic law in Egypt.” Al-Zirikli describes him in more detail:

He was a professor at the department of rights at Madrasat al-Qadā’ al-Shar‘ī. He is noted for his research in comparing legal schools and religions. He authored roughly 25 book, such as Ahkām al-Ahwāl al-Shakhsiyyah fī al-Sharī‘ah al-Islāmiyyah, al-Nafaqāt, al-Wasāyā, and Turuq al-Ithbāt al-Shar‘iyyah in comparative Fiqh.

It is evident from the above that Ahmad Ibrāhīm was the first to address legal issues in a comparative style similar to conventional comparative law, which credited him with remodeling Islamic law. This label and idea were unknown to earlier Muslims; they were an outcome of colonial thought and influenced by secular law. […]

Fiqh al-Ikhtilāf is a well-known field of study; a student of Fiqh cannot hope to develop competence until he gains an understanding of it, and Muslim scholars throughout history were deeply involved in it. However, it is unacceptable to concoct laws by combining scholarly opinions without set principles and evaluate without established criteria and inadequate comprehension. The study of Fiqh in this comparative manner is unprecedented. Al-Mughnī fī Sharh al-Khiraqī, al-Majmū‘ fī Sharh al-Muhadhdhab, and al-Bināyah fī Sharh al-Hidāyah are not books of comparative Fiqh in this sense; they are purely madhhab related books where the authors present various opinions and proofs on a subject and then support their respective views with scriptural and rational evidence. In al-Muhallā, Ibn Hazm al-Ẓahirī presents his own opinions and mentions other opinions to refute them, and he relies on his own principles of deducing laws, bearing in mind the criticism of scholars in respect to them. There is no issue in labeling a study “comparative” or “general” Fiqh; these are mere terms and there is no restriction in terminology. However, the potential problem lies is the methodology, which if compliant to the methods of our early and latter-day authorities is incontestable.

When should Fiqh al-Ikhtilāf be studied?

Fiqh al-Ikhtilāf should be studied at the end of one’s academic journey. Under the etiquettes of seeking knowledge, scholars explain that it is imperative to avoid delving into scholarly differences during the initial part of one’s study, particularly Fiqh – that is, by studying more than one school simultaneously – because that will confuse and scatter the thoughts and weaken piety due to the conflicting opinions. This is particularly in the case of one who evaluates opinions and exercises ijtihād in respect to the views of the mujtahid scholars without understanding their statements, studying their methodology, or consulting their experts. Hujjat al-Islām al-Ghazālī cautions:

In the beginning, one who seeks to study a discipline should avoid delving into differences, be they in the mundane or religious sciences, as that will overwhelm the mind, weaken the capacity to reason, and make one despondent of acquiring expertise. Instead, a student should begin by perfecting one praiseworthy path that is approved by his teacher; only thereafter should he delve into differences and objections.

The study of Fiqh requires a gradual pace. Just as it is incorrect to present scholarly differences to a novice until he develops a firm grasp of the sciences and acquaintance with their principles, it is likewise important for a teacher to take his students through the subjects of one field gradually. Scholars divided the acquisition of knowledge into different stages. The first stage is iqtisār (sufficient), the middle stage is iqtisād (moderate), and the advanced stage is istiqsā’ (exhaustive). ‘Allāmah Sājuqlī Zādah writes, “In Fiqh, iqtisār is acquired by studying books like Mukhtasar al-Qudūrī, iqtisād with books like al-Hidāyah, and beyond that is istiqsā’ with books like Fatāwā Qādī Khān and al-Khulāsah.”[5]

[Translator’s preface: The following paper outlines an approach to evaluating the authenticity of historical reports. The author begins by emphasizing the merits of the Hadīth methodology, but makes sure to point out that not every science is obliged to adopt such a rigorous method. Drawing on statements from Hadīth experts like Ibn al-Mubarak and al-Khatīb al-Baghdādī, he proves that Hadīth scholars themselves were nuanced in their treatment of non-prophetic reports.

After a lengthy preamble, he presents a maxim that can be applied to such reports: every report that, directly or indirectly, forms the basis of a religious ruling will be accepted only through the rigorous methods of the Hadīth scholars used for the Sunnah; otherwise, their methods will not be applied. He then explains the theoretical application of this maxim in all areas from Sīrah to Companion statements to stories of the following generations; to illustrate its practical application, he provides two case studies.

To be sure, this paper is not a license to cite unsubstantiated stories. As the author himself explains, “Taking certain liberties when assessing transmitted information besides Hadīth is not tantamount to authenticating what is inauthentic; instead, every transmitted information is to be evaluated with a relevant scale.” Note: a paraphrased translation was adopted and subtitles were added to facilitate an easier read.]

Introduction

There has been an increasing demand to refine Hadīth studies in the fields of Sīrah, history, and prosopography. These demands have been made for a diverse set of methodologies, the most pure and cautious being the methodology of the Hadīth scholars. As a result, numerous research projects and books were produced, which is a blessed endeavor and a sign of great good. These studies have corrected many academic errors and refined some of the most integral primary sources. Nonetheless, these were human endeavors and therefore prone to error. An error in a peripheral issue is a light matter that can be easily resolved, but a methodological error is dangerous and its findings are difficult to remedy.

Varying Methods of Evaluation

It is clear from the words and practice of the Hadīth scholars that they would differentiate between prophetic reports and non-prophetic reports and between those related to matters of faith and those that were not. Even prophetic reports were further categorized: legal and theological hadīths were treated differently from hadīths on virtues and softening of hearts. In fact, legal hadīths themselves were divided into primary reports on a given subject and mere attestations, each being treated differently. In all these areas, Hadīth scholars worked wonders that humbles the intellect.

A flaw in some of the studies mentioned earlier is they were conducted by non-specialists in the field of Hadīth – who lack actual expertise, not mere degrees and titles. Consequently, at times, these studies failed to implement the nuances of the Hadīth methodology, thereby opposing the very methodology they set out to implement. The following statements explicitly establish this nuance. In al-Jāmi‘ li Akhlāq al-Rāwī wa Ādāb al-Sāmi‘, under the chapter “Writing that which does not require a chain of transmission,” al-Khatīb al-Baghdādī’s writes, “Chains of transmission are a mere adornment and not a prerequisite when citing anecdotes of the righteous, stories of the ascetics, advices of the eloquent, and aphorisms of the poets.” He relates from Yūsuf ibn al-Husayn al-Rāzī (d. 304) that he said, “The chain of transmission for a wise saying is its existence.”[1] He further relates:

Ibn al-Mubārak was asked, “Should we read the advices found in books [without chains to their respective sources]?” He replied, “If you find advice inscribed on a wall, read it and take heed.” When asked if the same applies to law, he replied, “It must be studied from a teacher.”

He then mentions the story of a Khurāsānī man who would attend the gathering of Yazīd ibn Hārūn and write information without their chains of transmission. When the attendees criticized him, Yazīd said:

There is no problem if the Khurāsānī man is writing stories of asceticism and anecdotes of admonition and morals. However, he has erred if he wrote legal hadīths on what is lawful and unlawful without their chains, because that is the only method of verification. He is, therefore, required to ask and evaluate their authenticity.

It should be noted that every discipline has specific methods to evaluate the transmitted and rational information therein. It is an egregious error to conflate distinct methodologies, as this will to lead to the deconstruction of each science. For example, applying the critical methods of the Hadīth scholars to pre-Islamic, early Islamic, and even general collections of poetry will do little more than deconstruct the Arabic language. Scholars of language have formulated adequate standards to critique their science and methods to assess transmitted language, and in doing so, they exerted much effort, fulfilling the responsibility on their shoulder towards the language of the Qur’ān and Sunnah.[2] It is essential that we respect experts of each field with regards to their respective fields and value the expertise of the specialists. So long as we are not experts in a given field, we will not compete with them, particularly the leading specialists, from the scholars of the various Islamic sciences.

The purpose of the above explanation is to point out that although the Hadīth methodology is the only method to evaluate transmitted religious knowledge, it is not necessarily the most efficient method for other sciences even though both sets of information are accompanied by chains of transmission. The presence of a chain of transmission should not lead one to evaluate it as per the Hadīth methodology used for prophetic hadīths, since the inclusion of a chain was part and parcel of all Islamic sciences. The presence of a chain, therefore, does not always mean it is to be scrutinized to evaluate the reliability of the report.

Having established that Hadīth scholars critique hadīths differently from historical reports, it is an opportune moment to emphasis that the Hadīth methodology is characterized by extreme caution and intense scrutiny and skepticism. Had it not been for the indescribable amount of care the Muslim civilization gave to the transmission, study, teaching, preservation, and writing of the Sunnah – it was their greatest preoccupation – such caution and skepticism would have removed authentic parts of the Sunnah. Their profound attention towards transmission allowed Hadīth scholars to be extremely meticulous without harming the Sunnah. As such, applying this rigorous methodology to sciences besides Hadīth is harmful because they do not require that degree of rigor and neither has the Muslim civilization given them attention that would facilitate such rigor without dismissing reliable information. Taking certain liberties when assessing transmitted information besides Hadīth is not tantamount to authenticating what is inauthentic; instead, every transmitted information is to be evaluated with a relevant scale.

Allow me to illustrate this theoretical expose with a simple, practical example. Say you hear a prominent scholar, whose knowledge and piety you hold in high regard, relate a plausible story about one of his teacher’s most famous or knowledgeable teacher. While relating the story, if the scholar says, “I heard many of my teachers mention regarding that scholar,” would you doubt it simply because the status of those teachers is unknown? To make this more practical, assume you hear Shaykh Bin Bāz (Allah have mercy upon him) say, “We heard many teachers say that so and so was such and such.” Would you doubt his story? Then why is it that when Ibn ‘Adī, a competent authority, says, “I heard several teachers relate that when Muhammad ibn Ismā‘īl al-Bukhārī (Allāh be pleased with him) arrived at Baghdad, news reached the partisans of Hadīth, so they gathered together and chose a hundred hadīths and shuffled their chains and texts…” a contemporary criticizes this story on the basis that the status of Ibn ‘Adī’s teachers is unknown whereas al-Bukhārī’s knowledge far exceeds what is described here and Ibn ‘Adī narrates it from a group of al-Bukhārī’s students? Had Ibn ‘Adī, who was a Hadīth expert and musnid, wanted, he could have cited one of his direct teachers, but he believed that the phrase “I heard several teachers relate” was a stronger expression for a story of this nature because it is evaluated differently from hadīths.

Maxim of evaluation: theory and practice

I can now proceed to explain a maxim that can help determine when to apply a more rigorous approach, like the Hadīth methodology, to evaluate historical accounts anecdotes or a less rigorous approach by adopting other relevant methods of evaluation. The maxim is as follows: every report that, directly or indirectly, forms the basis of a religious ruling will be accepted only through the rigorous methods of the Hadīth scholars used for the Sunnah; otherwise, their methods will not be applied. This maxim requires much explanation, but I will suffice on several examples that can shed light on pertinent aspects of it.

In the prophetic Sīrah, some reports can be used to extrapolate a legal ruling; here the rigorous method of assessment will be applied. Other reports cannot form the basis of a legal ruling, such as the date, number of participants, and exact location of a particular battle; here the Hadīth methodology will not be applied unless a ruling can be extrapolated from it indirectly, e.g. whether a report had occurred earlier or later to help determine abrogation, in which case it will be applied.

Then there are reports about the Companions. Some of these have a connection with the law, such as the Companions’ legal verdicts and judicial judgments. If the Companion report is the only piece of evidence on a subject where there is no scriptural evidence, then the Hadīth methodology will be applied. However, in the presence of authentic scriptural evidence, the Companion report is cited only to augment our understanding of the scriptural evidence. It is fine to apply the aforementioned caution when assessing such a report, but there is also scope not to because it will not affect the overall status of the ruling.

Companion reports that are merely historical, such as conquests and battles, will follow the same procedure as the Sīrah. But reports about their internal conflicts (fitnah) are to be assessed similar to prophetic hadīths. To be sure, this is in conformity with the aforementioned maxim and not an exception. Reports of internal conflicts are not only stories; they influence our judgment on who was right or wrong, and it may even influence some people’s perception of their probity and transgression. Those being judged here are none other than the Companions (Allah be pleased with them), who were praised and verified by Allah and His messenger. As such, these reports are to be scrutinized thoroughly, particularly when they can pave the way for people of innovation and animosity towards the religion of Allah and the Companions to misconstrue and fabricate against them.

That being said, it is possible to adopt a middle path when dealing with reports about internal conflicts or similar reports: when the crux of a report is verified by the Hadīth methodology, details surrounding it can be established from other reports [not established through such rigorous methods], provided they do not conflict with the established probity and virtue of the Companions or with the authentic report itself. By way of illustration, I spent several years studying the reports about Khālid ibn al-Walīd and Mālik ibn Nuwayrah during the renegade wars. The story is well-known, but forgers and their ilk from the Orientalists have built around it a web of despicable details. One researcher had outright rejected the story in its entirety, concluding that Mālik ibn Nuwayrah was a renegade who was lawfully killed despite the fact that he is unanimously mentioned among the Companions. After further research, it became clear that there is only one authentic chain of transmission for the story, related by Khalīfah ibn Khayyāt in his Tārīkh where Ibn ‘Umar said:

Abū Qatādah came to Abū Bakr with news about the death of Mālik and his people. This deeply troubled him, so he summoned Khālid. Thereafter, Abū Bakr said, “Did Khalid do more than formulate an opinion and err?” and sent Khālid away. He then paid the blood money for Mālik ibn Nuwayrah and returned the captives and spoils.

Despite its brevity, this report establishes the crux of the story and puts things into perspective: Khālid’s actions are excused and the despicable allegation against Mālik ibn Nuwayrah [that he was a renegade] is disproved because Abū Bakr paid his blood money. This begs the question: what are we to do about the details without which we cannot possibly understand the story? The way forward is to accept only those details that conform to the narrative in the authentic report and do not contravene the probity of the Companions, which is established from scripture. This is because the chains of these details are not authentic in the first place, and moreover, whatever conflicts with the constants will be disregarded. It is disingenuous to treat them equally to the constants, let alone rely upon them.

The default for historical accounts of the following generations, i.e. the second and third centuries, is to benefit from them without critiquing them according to the Hadīth methodology unless a judgment is going to be made regarding an individual who possesses religious sanctity, i.e. he is a Muslim (e.g. some of the kings and sultans), in which case it will be scrutinized like a religious ruling. This is only when such a judgment has academic benefit. If such research will yield no positive results or even unpleasant results, it should be avoided and time should not be wasted.

This universal maxim is also applied to the lives and stories of the scholars. Caution will be applied when a report will lead to passing a religious judgement, which is illustrated in the expressions of narrator criticism vis-à-vis the Hadīth transmitters. All other reports, like the aforementioned story of al-Bukhārī, words of wisdom, mention of their oeuvre, and descriptions of their libraries, etc., will not be scrutinized as thoroughly. Rather, the relevant standard of assessment will be applied, taking into consideration what is reasonable, the reliability of the transmitter (or source and author), and other factors that accompany the report. In addition, the expected outcome of such assessment should be weighed. This is a summary of my take on evaluating historical reports. And Allah knows best.

[1] If the transmission of this quote is accurate, then Yūsuf ibn al-Husayn al-Rāzī learned this from his teacher, the renowned ascetic, Dhū al-Nūn al-Misrī, who was asked, “What is the chain of transmission for a wise saying?” to which he replied, “Its existence.” See Abū Nu‘aym, Hilyat al-Awliyā’, vol.9, pp.377-378.

[2] Refer to Muhammad ibn Sallām al-Jumahī’s (d. 231 AH) discussion on the methods of critiquing the various sciences, arts, and disciplines and the need to consult the specialists of each field in Tabaqāt Fuhūl al-Shu‘arā’, vol.1, pp.7-4. An interesting statement is reported from Yahyā ibn Sa‘īd al-Qattān, “Transmitters of poetry are more perceptive than Hadīth transmitters because the latter [unknowingly] narrates much forgeries while the former immediately detects a forgery [in poetry] upon reciting it. See Abū ‘Alī al-Qālī, Dhayl al-Amālī, vol.3, p.105. To asses this report according to the Hadīth methodology, it is narrated from al-Qālī from Muhammad ibn Abī al-Azhar from al-Zubayr ibn Bakkār; Muhammad ibn Mazīd ibn Abī al-Azhar al-Nahwī is a liar and fabricator according to the Hadīth scholars and linguists (like al-Marzubānī). See Lisān al-Mīzān, vol.7, pp.500-2.

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]]>https://ahadithnotes.com/2017/12/03/guidelines-on-evaluating-historical-reports/feed/0mzaman36The Life and Works of Hāfiẓ al-Zayla‘ī, Author of Nasb al-Rāyahhttps://ahadithnotes.com/2017/11/16/the-life-and-works-of-hafi%e1%ba%93-al-zaylai-author-of-nasb-al-rayah/
https://ahadithnotes.com/2017/11/16/the-life-and-works-of-hafi%e1%ba%93-al-zaylai-author-of-nasb-al-rayah/#respondThu, 16 Nov 2017 16:32:59 +0000http://ahadithnotes.com/?p=1195The Life and Works of Hāfiẓ al-Zayla‘ī, Author of Nasb al-Rāyah

By Shaykh Muhammad ‘Awwāmah

Translated by Muntasir Zaman

Name and lineage

He is the Imām, prolific Hadith memorizer, and authority, Jamāl al-Dīn Abū Muhammad ‘Abd Allāh ibn Yūsuf ibn Yūnus Ibn Muhammad al-Zayla‘ī[1] al-Hanafī, one of the leading Hadīth experts of the 8th century, which brimmed with experts of Hadīth who revived the path of the earlier scholars vis-à-vis memorization, scope, and analytics. Biographers disagree on his name and his father’s name: is it ‘Abd Allāh ibn Yūsuf or Yūsuf ibn ‘Abd Allāh? The first opinion is more preferred, and Allāh knows best.[2]

Birth

Biographers have not specified the year of his birth, and neither have I come across any information to specify it either, but it is, nonetheless, safe to provide a rough estimation. Hāfiẓ al-Suyūtī writes, “the place of his entry is in the following generation. I mentioned him earlier only because his demise was earlier.” The “following generation” referred to in the quotation is the generation of Hāfiẓ Ibn Rajab (736-795 AH), Ibn Musallam (724-792 AH), Ibn Sayyid al-Nās (729-792 AH), and others. It is therefore not farfetched to assume that Hāfiẓ al-Zayla‘ī was born in the vicinity of 720 AH. A further indication of this estimation is that Hāfiẓ al-‘Irāqī would accompany him in research while sourcing the hadīths of al-Ihyā, and they would even assist one another; al-‘Irāqī was born in 725 AH.[3]

In Nasb al-Rāyah, al-Zayla‘ī frequently quotes Ibn Daqīq al-‘Īd’s al-Imām, and in each case, he mentions “the Shaykh said” and not once does he say “our Shaykh said.” Ibn Daqīq al-‘Īd passed away in 702 AH in Cairo, al-Zayla‘ī’s hometown. Furthermore, in several places he quotes al-Sarūjī, who passed away in Cairo in 710 AH, and Ibn Sayyid al-Nās, who passed in 724 AH, from his ‘Uyūn al-Athar; not once does he refer to them as “our Shaykh.” However, he frequently quotes Hāfiẓ al-Mizzī (d. 742 AH) and Hāfiẓ al-Dhahabī (d. 748 AH) and refers to them as “our Shaykh.” To the best of my knowledge, Hāfiẓ al-Mizzī was the first of his teachers to pass away.

Teachers

Al-Zayla‘ī acquired knowledge from the senior scholars of Fiqh and Hadīth in his time.

The following are some of his teachers in Hadīth: (1) Imām Abū al-Hajjāj al-Mizzī (d. 742 AH), the teacher of the Hadīth experts of his time, who al-Zayla‘ī quotes in Nasb al-Rāyah on a number of occasions. (2) Imām Shams al-Dīn al-Dhahabī (d. 747 AH). Al-Zayla‘ī repeatedly cites his book, Mizān al-I‘tidāl, and at times even critiques him. (3) Imām ‘Alā’ al-Dīn al-Māridīnī (d. 750 AH), who al-Zayla‘ī quotes frequently, but critiques every time.

Acquaintance with, and praise in, the field of Hadīth

Al-Zayla‘ī developed a deep acquaintance with the field of Hadīth and frequently consulted the relevant books. He collected popular and rare, classical and new – relatively – Hadīth works until he developed proficiency in the science. He managed to locate hadīths other experts in the field were unable to locate; Nasb al-Rāyah is a clear testimony to this.

While enumerating those who wrote takhrīj works on al-Hidāyah, the learned Hadīth expert Qāsim [ibn Qutlūbughā] (d. 879 AH) describes al-Zayla‘ī as “the most expansive in scope and wide-ranging in collection.”[4] The erudite scholar al-Laknawī (d. 1304 AH) writes, “His takhrīj work is indicative of his depth in the field of Hadīth and narrator criticism, and his encompassing vision in the branches of Hadīth to the highest extent.”[5] The teacher of our teachers, the authoritative expert, Shaykh Muhammad Zāhid al-Kawtharī (d. 1371 AH) writes, “His takhrīj works bear testimony to his depth and expansive scope in the disciplines of Hadīth in terms of commentary, narrator criticism, texts, and routes.”[6] The Imām of this era, Shaykh Anwar Shāh al-Kashmīrī (d. 1352 AH) went as far as saying, “In my opinion, Hāfiẓ al-Zayla‘ī has better memory than Hāfiẓ Ibn Hajar.”[7] This is the opinion of Shaykh al-Kashmīrī, and Allāh knows best.

Works

His works are few in number. This is possibly because he lived a short life. Despite this, the written legacy he left behind is a sufficient source of provision and pride. The biographers mention only two books, and I came across a third.

The first is al-Is‘āf bi Ahādīth al-Kashshāf where he sourced the hadīths of al-Zamakhsharī’s Tafsīr al-Kashshāf. In Nasb al-Rāyah, he expressly mentions this book with the aforementioned title, and in several places, he alludes to it without naming it. That he mentions the book in the first volume of Nasb al-Rāyah demonstrates that it is an earlier work, or alternatively, he began writing both books simultaneously.

In his annotation on al-Maqāsid al-Hasanah, our teacher, the learned Hadīth scholar, Shaykh ‘Abd Allāh al-Siddīq al-Ghumārī describes this work as “a beneficial and lengthy takhrīj work.” This is the description of one who is well versed with its contents, because he was in possession of a manuscript of the book. I wrote to him, requesting that he describe the book, so he replied (may Allāh reward him):

I have a copy of the takhrīj of the hadīths in al-Kashshāf. It is in one volume and does not have a preface. The author exhausted all the prophetic hadīths in al-Kashshāf, but left out many Companion reports because his primary focus was to source the prophetic hadīths. He does not pass a judgment on the authenticity, soundness, or weakness of a hadīth unless he quotes someone else. My copy of the book is new, and in the Egyptian National Library there is a good quality, antique manuscript.

Hāfiẓ Ibn Hajar summarized this book ­– just as he summarized al-Zayla‘ī’s takhrīj on the hadīths of al-Hidāyah – entitled al-Kāf al-Shāf bi Takhrīj Ahādīth al-Kashshāf. In 1354 AH, Mustafā Muhammad publishing house printed the book alongside Tafsīr al-Kashshāf under the guidance of our teacher, the prolific Hadīth memorizer, Shaykh Ahmad al-Siddīq al-Ghumārī.

The second book is Mukhtasar [summation of] Ma’ānī al-Āthār by Imām al-Tahāwī. While discussing the scholarly activity surrounding Sharh Ma‘ānī al-Āthār, ‘Allāmah al-Kawtharī mentions this and writes, “Hāfiẓ al-Zayla‘ī is also among those who summarized the book. His summary is preserved in Ruwāq al-Atrāk library (in Azhar) and Köprülü Library in Istanbul.”[8] The third book is Nasb al-Rāyah li Ahādīth al-Hidāyah, which will be studied in detail shortly [not translated here], with the help of Allāh.

Academic honesty

Many biographers note a noble academic trait that was pronounced in al-Zayla‘ī: impartiality and the abandonment of madhhab fanaticism. While describing al-Zayla‘ī and his book Nasb al-Rāyah, Hāfiẓ Ibn Hajar writes, “In every chapter, he cites the evidence of the opposition, and in so doing, he exhibits a great deal of fairness. He quotes what he finds without objection…”[9] ‘Allāmah al-Kashmīrī traces the cause of al-Zayla‘ī inculcating this trait to the fact that he was from “the Sūfī mentors whose souls were trained through spiritual exercises and seclusion…”[10]

This trait is manifest in Nasb al-Rāyah. The author was rooted in the Hanafī legal school and then cross-pollinated his knowledge by studying under Ibn ‘Adlān, the teacher of the Shāfi‘ī jurists, and others besides him. Furthermore, he was deeply influenced by al-Imām of Ibn Daqīq al-Īd, who was a Mālikī and Shāfi‘ī scholar, and by Ibn al-Jawzī’s al-Tahqīq and Ibn ‘Abd al-Hādī’s al-Tanqīh, both of whom were Hanbalī scholars.

While we are at it, it is important to clarify that some people are surprised by al-Zayla‘ī’s abandonment of madhhab fanaticism in light of his repeated usage of the phrase “the hadīths of the khusūm (opposition)” whereby he intends the hadīths adduced as proof by the other legal schools; he calls them the khusūm! How does one reconcile the two? The answer is the word khasm is not used as per the common parlance of the general masses, i.e. the enemy or similar usages. In this context, it is in reference to those disagreeing on a given topic. Here is the quote from al-Qāmūs al-Muhīt under the roots khā’, ṣād, and mīm, “Al-khusūmah: debate…a khasim person – on the scale of farih – is a debater.” As such, the intent of al-Zayla‘ī’s statement “the hadīths of the khusūm” is the hadīths of those who hold an opinion contrary to the Hanafīs – it does not mean the hadīths of the enemies! Hence, correct understanding is integral.

Demise

In the closing of al-Zayla‘ī’s entry, Ibn Fahd writes, “He (Allāh have mercy on him) passed away on the 11th of Muharram in 762 AH” and that was in Cairo. No one specified the location of his grave.[11] Based on the estimation I postulated for the year of his birth, he lived for 40 years. Allāh have mercy on us, him, and all the Muslims.

[1] Al-Zayla‘ī is an attribution to Zayla‘ from the port cities of Ethiopia [present day Somalia]. A group of scholars are attributed to this place. Most prominent among them are two: the scholar under discussion and his teacher Fakhr al-Dīn al-Zayla‘ī (d. 743 AH), the commentator on al-Kanz.

[2] The following scholars have preferred the former opinion: Hafiẓ Ibn Hajar in al-Durar al-Kaminah (2:417), Ibn Fahd and al-Suyūtī in their respective addendums on Tadhkirat al-Huffaẓ (pp.128 and 362), al-Suyūtī in his Tabaqāt al-Huffāẓ (p.531) and Husn al-Muhādarah (1:359), and al-Laknawī in al-Fawā’id al-Bahiyyah (pp.229-230 – here he relates the disagreement- and p.237 – here he authenticates the former opinion). That the second opinion (Yūsuf ibn ‘Abd Allāh) is preferred is indicated by the fact that his title is unanimously Jamāl al-Dīn, which predominantly is the title of a person whose name is Yūsuf.

]]>https://ahadithnotes.com/2017/11/16/the-life-and-works-of-hafi%e1%ba%93-al-zaylai-author-of-nasb-al-rayah/feed/0mzaman36Distinctive Traits of the Islamic System of Inheritancehttps://ahadithnotes.com/2017/11/09/distinctive-traits-of-the-islamic-system-of-inheritance/
https://ahadithnotes.com/2017/11/09/distinctive-traits-of-the-islamic-system-of-inheritance/#respondThu, 09 Nov 2017 19:27:35 +0000http://ahadithnotes.com/?p=1189Distinctive Traits of the Islamic System of Inheritance

By Mufti Taqi Uthmani

Translated by Muntasir Zaman

Islamic law has put in place a fair and wise system of inheritance. The Qur’an and Sunnah have meticulously elucidated the subject without leaving it to human reasoning, which is unable to fully grasp the profound wisdom only encompassed by Allah Most High. We, therefore, find that the Islamic laws of inheritance part ways with other religions and legal systems from many angles. These distinctive traits are encapsulated in the following principles laid down by the Shari’ah.

1.All assets of the deceased form part of the inheritance

The first principle in the Islamic system of inheritance is that all assets left by the deceased are inheritable be they of personal use, such as clothes and utensils, or items that accrue profit, such as land, merchandise, and money. According to Islamic law, inheritors are entitled to all of these items, small or large, valuable or cheap. Only three areas are excluded: finance for the burial process, debts, and the bequest, which caps at one third of the remaining wealth.

Prior to Islam, many societies would draw a distinction between perishable and profitable items. Accordingly, after the demise of an individual, only the second category would be handed over to the inheritors, such as land, shops, and money. On the other hand, items of personal use, like clothes, utensils, weapons, and adornments were not inherited. Some went as far as burying these with the deceased claiming the deceased needs them in the afterlife, others would gather these items in one place and set them alight, and yet others would divide them into three parts: a portion for the inheritors to keep in memory of the deceased, a second portion of clothing and adornments to be buried with the deceased, and a third portion for the expenses of the day of burial because hiring professional mourners was expensive. For more details on these rituals, one may refer to the section of inheritance laws in Encyclopedia Britannica.

These rituals led to the loss of wealth; valuable items were buried, burnt, or utilized to finance a professional mourner, all the while the immediate family of the deceased were in dire need of them. Islam prohibited such extremism and ignorance, by entitling the inheritors to all assets of the deceased – even something as inconsequential as a needle.

2.Inheritance is the right of the relatives, not of strangers

So long as the relatives of the deceased are alive, they alone are entitled to the inheritance. Some societies have given preference to the friends and neighbors over the relatives. As a result, the neighbors and friends would amass all the wealth, leaving the direct family deprived of his wealth after having already suffered the loss of his life; this is clearly an unjust practice. Islam upholds this principle to the point that even the adopted child is not allowed to inherit. Pre-Islamic Arab societies would allow for the adopted child to inherit, equating him to the biological son vis-à-vis inheritance. The Qur’an nullified this and established that as per Islamic law the only true child is one’s biological child.

3.Inheritance is the right of males and females, young and old

In pre-Islamic Arabia, women and children were not assigned a share of the inheritance. Only those who obtained the spoils of war or were able to combat on horseback were entitled, as reported by Ibn Jarir al-Tabari (d. 310; Allah have mercy on him) in his Tafsir. Islam abolished this oppressive practice, and Allah mandated the female’s right to inheritance in the verse, “For men is a share of what the parents and close relatives leave, and for women is a share of what the parents and close relatives leave, be it little or much – an obligatory share.”

In his Tafsir, Ibn Jarir al-Tabari narrates from ‘Ikrimah who said, “(This verse) was revealed regarding Umm Kahlah, the daughter of Kahlah, Tha’labah, and Aws ibn Suwayd, who were from the Ansar. One of them was her husband and the other was the paternal uncle of her son. She said, “O Messenger of Allah! My husband passed away leaving me and his daughter behind, yet we did not receive from his inheritance. The paternal uncle said, “O Messenger of Allah! She does not ride a horse, bear any burden, or fend of the enemy; she incurs liabilities and does not earn.” Thus, Allah revealed, “For men is a share of what the parents…”

4.Proximity is the basis of inheritance

The one closer to the deceased has a greater right to the inheritance. This principle is also applicable in the case of the ‘asabat; hence, the closer ‘asabah will block the farther one. This principle, however, is not always applicable in the case of the Dhawi al-Furud, but is taken into consideration in stipulating their shares. That being said, a person does not block another in his category of proximity simply because of seniority, a known practice of the Christians which is unfair to the young children of the deceased, in which case, they are deprived from inheritance only because they were born after their elder siblings. Islam removed this oppression and placed equality between the children without discriminating based on age.

It is worth mentioning that an increased participation in inheritance is an effective method of preventing the hording of wealth, balancing the distribution of wealth, and curtailing the perpetual circulation of wealth solely among the rich. In Islam, all horded wealth will, therefore, eventually fall into the possession of multiple hands. This is in addition to Islam’s just system of inheritance.

5.Inheritance grants complete, unrestricted ownership

The Islamic system of inheritance mandates that inheritance confers complete, unrestricted ownership of one’s portion, as opposed to the system of the Hindus and some of the Greeks and Romans who adhered to joint family laws. According to them, land and properties are jointly owned by the members of the family; no member was able to sell their portion or separate it from the shares of others, which led to a number of complications. Based on this system, a person was often left in need of money (yet unable to sell his share) nor was he be able to utilize his rightfully owned share of inheritance.

Islam abolished these practices and demarcated each person’s share so that one may spend the wealth as one pleases. It is for this reason Islamic law encourages the distribution of inheritance as soon as possible after the passing of the deceased, because an abundance of partnership can lead to quarreling and enmity between the partners.

Covering nearly one-hundred topics, it is no wonder the disciplines of Hadīth are one of the few sciences that are ‘ripe’ (nadaj) and ‘roasted’ (ihtaraq), that is, they were clearly elucidated and thoroughly researched (al-Jazā’irī, Tawjīh al-Nażar, vol.2, p.903). Obviously, this accomplishment was not the doing of a few scattered scholars; it was the result of relentless effort from an unbroken chain of scholars over a millennium. In his authoritative commentary, Nuzhat al-Nażar, Hāfiż Ibn Hajar al-‘Asqalānī (d. 852 AH) briefly outlines the most prominent installments to the genre of Hadīth nomenclature, starting with al-Ramahurmuzī’s (d. c. 360 AH) al-Muhaddith al-Fāsil and culminating with Abū ‘Amr Ibn al-Salāh’s (d. 643 AH) Ma‘rifat Anwā‘ ‘Ilm al-Hadīth. There is, however, a conspicuous gap as one key figure does not feature on this list: the 5th century Hadīth expert and prolific author, Abū Bakr al-Bayhaqī (d. 458 AH), whose monumental work al-Madkhal ilā ‘Ilm al-Sunan serves prima facie as merely an introduction to his compendium, al-Sunan al-Kubrā, but in essence is a phenomenal work in its own right.

Al-Madkhal was first edited in 1984 by Dr. Diyā’ al-Rahmān al-A‘żamī and published by Dār al-Khulafā’, but it was based on an incomplete manuscript. In 2016, Dār al-Minhāj published the book in two volumes with annotations from Shaykh Muhammad ‘Awwāmah, who cross-examined it with two early manuscripts, one complete and the other partly incomplete. To create awareness of this valuable work, we will briefly summarize its contents, highlight certain salient passages, and examine the editorial work of Shaykh ‘Awwāmah.

Overview

For our purposes, al-Madkhal can broadly be categorized into an introduction and three parts. The introduction comprises an expose of Imām al-Shāfi‘ī’s (d. 204 AH) status as a scholar and mujtahid. Towards the end, the author dedicates several passages to explain the reason for compiling al-Sunan al-Kubrā and the modus operandi of citing hadīths therein (pp.3-45). This is followed by two chapters on the virtues of studying, and the obligation of following, the Qur’ān and the Sunnah, respectively (pp.46-74). The first part covers essential and peripheral discussions concerning Hadīth (pp.75-406). These include introductory topics, such as the authoritativeness of the Sunnah and the veracity of isolated-transmission; it further delves into the disciplines of Hadīth proper with chapters on paraphrased transmission, tadlīs, the traits of a reliable transmitter, and the use of mursal reports. The second part of al-Madkhal covers discussions on legal theory, such as consensus, ijtihad, Mafhūm al-Mukhālafah, and ostensibly conflicting hadīths (pp.407-669). The third part covers the virtues of acquiring knowledge, the rank of scholars, and the etiquettes of students (pp.670-886).

Two sections from the first part are noteworthy. The author spends three chapters to emphasize the reliability of four Companions, ‘Abd Allāh ibn ‘Umar, Abū Hurayrah, Samurah ibn Jundub, and Mu‘āwiyah (Allah be pleased with them) in response to criticisms from certain sects in his hometown, Bayhaq (pp.194-217). Second, the author includes a chapter titled “distinguishing inauthentic hadiths from authentic ones through prolonged exposure [to hadiths] even though the transmitters are trustworthy.” He presents statements from classical scholars on the underlying principle of matn criticism, that is, developing a familiarity with hadīths after long exposure, thereby detecting anomalies (p.263).

The author draws on a plethora of earlier books like Imām al-Shafī‘ī’s oeuvre, Ibn Abī Hātim al-Rāzī’s (d. 327 AH) Adāb al-Shāfī‘ī wa Manāqibuhū, and Ya‘qūb al-Fasawī’s (d. 277 AH) al-Ma‘rifah wa al-Tārīkh. By gathering these scattered passages in one book in a systematic manner, the author made the task easy for students looking for relevant information, not to mention countless quotes that are not easily found in any extant source. It is worth noting that he rendered a great service by preserving priceless quotes from al-Fasawī’s Tārīkh not found in the printed edition of the book.

Annotations

Avid readers of Shaykh ‘Awwāmah’s works might have expected more detailed footnotes. But as he himself explains, his primary focus was to accurately compare the available manuscripts of the work and reference the citations therein (p.25). As expected, he fulfilled both tasks with the scholarly brilliance characteristic of his other works. He states in no uncertain terms that he will not expend energy in analyzing issues related to the differences of the legal schools, whether peripheral rulings or legal theory. Bearing in mind that the author was a Shāfi‘ī scholar and that the purpose of writing al-Sunan al-Kubrā was to augment Shafī‘ī substantive law with hadīths, it is understandable that al-Madkhal incorporates material that tilts the balance in favor of the author’s legal school. The editor makes the apt observation that to stubbornly hold onto any position that falls within the scope of legitimate difference of opinion as definite is untenable. Therefore, there is no point of engaging in polemics (p.27).

On a number of occasions, he simply refers the reader to his tour de force, his marginal notes on Jalāl al-Dīn al-Suyūtī’s (d. 911 AH) Tadrīb al-Rāwī. Under the chapter on the narrations of the people of Iraq, for instance, he briefly explains that negative remarks mentioned in this chapter were addressed regarding a specific group and era. These remarks should not be seen as a general attitude towards the narrations of the people of Iraq. He then refers the reader to his footnotes on Tadrīb al-Rāwī for more details (p.343). Be that as it may, the book is interspersed with beneficial footnotes. Brief comments include the following:

Dāwūd ibn ‘Alī al-Zāhirī (d. 270 AH), the founder of the Zāhirī legal school, was the first to pen an independent biography of Imām al-Shāfi‘ī (p.9).

There are only a handful of lengthy comments, two of which are noteworthy. The first is a defense of Ibn Mas‘ūd against claims that he erred in, or was unaware of, several issues. Shaykh ‘Awwāmah points out that since Ibn Mas‘ūd was an authority in his own right, it is incorrect to fault him for independently holding certain views; in fact, he should be praised for singlehandedly preserving the teachings of the Prophet (peace be upon him). He emphasizes that some of these opinions were shared by other scholars as well while some of these views are not reliably attributed to him to begin with. By way of illustration, he analyzes reports concerning Ibn Mas‘ūd’s exclusion of the mu’awwidhatayn from his copy of the Qur’ān. It is widely related that Ibn Mas‘ūd taught these sūrahs to his students, as transmitted via six of the ten modes of Qur’ānic recitation. Hence, notwithstanding that the chains of these reports may be authentic in the technical sense, their content is problematic. Alternatively, these reports should be interpreted to mean, as Ibn Hajar explains, Ibn Mas‘ūd only refused to write the mu’awwidhatayn in his mushaf, but in no way did he refuse to accept them as part of the Qur’ān (p.348).

Second, he comments on al-Bayhaqī’s negative remarks on the hadīth “Indeed, hadiths will spread after me. Thus, whatever is attributed to me that corresponds to the Qur’ān, then it is from me, and whatever is attributed to me that conflicts with the Qur’ān, then it is not from me.” Shaykh ‘Awwāmah makes four observations here: (1) by saying “this is munqati‘” al-Bayhaqī means it is mursal, and three of the four Imāms regard mursal hadiths as legally binding when it is void of other isnād or matn related flaws; (2) the unidentified narrator in the chain is not Khālid ibn Abī Karīmah; (3) this is a good example of why a researcher needs to consult the primary source of a quote and contextualize it [he quotes the entire passage from Qādī Abū Yūsuf’s (d. 182 AH) al-Rad ‘alā Siyar al-Awzā‘ī where the hadith is cited to illustrate]; and (4) although al-Bayhaqī states that all the routes of transmission for this hadīth are unreliable, the question remains whether they can potentially reach the level of extrinsically sound (hasan li ghāyrīhī) in view of their multiplicity; scholars throughout the ages have searched for support in the Qur’ān for weak hadiths—al-Bayhaqī himself engages in this practice. He concludes by noting how the disparity in scholarly attitudes towards this hadith demonstrates that one’s understanding of a hadīth directly influences how one will grade its authenticity, and he refers readers to, among others, Abū Ja‘far al-Tahawī’s (d. 321 AH) treatment of the hadith in Sharh Mushkil al-Athār (p.132).

Conclusion

In sum, al-Bayhaqī’s al-Madkhal ilā ‘Ilm al-Sunan is a treasure trove of useful information, backed with chains of transmission to the respective sources and organized in an accessible fashion. Furthermore, the editor has cross-examined reliable manuscripts to present an accurate representation of the book, referenced the relevant passages to their primary sources, and provided useful comments throughout the two-volume work. Given the fast rate with which classical texts are being published these days, it is understandably difficult for students to keep abreast with the influx of titles in the market. However, al-Madkhal should not escape the attention of serious students of Hadīth interested in developing a strong foundation in the field.

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]]>https://ahadithnotes.com/2017/04/27/book-review-al-bayhaqis-al-madkhal-ila-ilm-al-sunan/feed/2mzaman36The Life and Thought of Imām Zāhid al-Kawtharīhttps://ahadithnotes.com/2017/01/23/the-life-and-thought-of-imam-zahid-al-kawthari/
https://ahadithnotes.com/2017/01/23/the-life-and-thought-of-imam-zahid-al-kawthari/#commentsMon, 23 Jan 2017 13:09:54 +0000http://ahadithnotes.com/?p=1148The Life and Thought of ImāmZāhid al-Kawtharī

By Muntasir Zaman

“What cosmic soul is imprisoned in that human body?” mused the learned Abū Zahrah (d. 1974) in utter admiration—indeed, “it is the soul of al-Kawtharī!” he proclaimed. [1] In recent memory, relatively few scholars have managed to synthesize expertise in, not merely acquaintance with, the vast majority of Islamic sciences. Shaykh Muhammad Zāhid al-Kawtharī (or Mehmet Zahit Kevsari) is arguably the foremost contender for that accolade; his polymathic oeuvre leaves one hard-pressed to pinpoint his forte, [2] from the intricacies of philosophy[3] to the minutiae of Arabic grammar,[4] not to mention his undisputed command of theology,[5] Hadīth,[6] and Islamic law.[7] The ripple effect of his peerless intellectual contributions is strongly felt in Islamic seminaries throughout the world till this day.

A modest amount of literature is available on the life and thought of al-Kawtharī (henceforth Kawtharī), To add to the existing material, particularly for an English-speaking readership, the present article aims to delineate the most salient features of his scholarly career, provide a synopsis of his modus operandi vis-à-vis prophetic and non-prophetic reports, and examine the merits of two major points of contention. Relevant details on certain passages have been relegated to the footnotes for the purpose of brevity.

Curriculum Vitae

Born in the year 1296 AH/1879 CE in Düzce,[8] Turkey, Kawtharī was of Circassian decent with an ancestor bearing the name Kawthar—hence the sobriquet al-Kawtharī. He received his elementary education from local scholars, and then moved to the vibrant capital of the Ottoman Caliphate, Istanbul, where he attended lessons in the prestigious medrese complex of the Fatih Mosque.[9] After successfully completing the fifteen-year curriculum in 1325 AH/1907 CE,[10] he enjoyed a distinguished career as a lecturer at his alma mater and was appointed Deputy of the Office of Shaykh al-Islam.[11] Fleeing from the Republican militias of Ataturk, in the winter of 1922 he emigrated, with a heavy heart, from his homeland to the unfamiliar soil of Egypt, leaving behind a once-proud empire that now stood on the brink of collapse. The following thirty years were tirelessly spent in Cairo, a hotbed for competing paradigms of Islamic thought; the first decade of his sojourn was punctuated with two year-long visits to Damascus.[12] He was married to a woman of proverbial piety and patience who stood by his side through thick and thin until their last moments; together they had four children, one son and three daughters—sadly, they were laid to rest before their father. After struggling with poor health for several years, he breathed his last in Dhul Qa‘dah 1371 AH/August 1952 CE (Allah have mercy on him).[13]

The raison d’être of his repertoire was his gifted memory.[14] He would effortlessly quote from memory “vanished pages from the imperial libraries of Istanbul.”[15] Shortly before his demise, while breaking fast with a close pupil, he dictated from memory insights from his readings at the Topkapı Library—he had not visited the library since his emigration well over a quarter-century earlier.[16] His extensive knowledge of rare manuscripts, Arabic and non-Arabic, from libraries throughout the Muslim world was a novelty due to which he eclipsed others in his league.[17] Fortunately, he left behind a wide-ranging oeuvre that comprised of books, treatises, biographies, articles,[18] and annotations in Arabic, Persian, Turkish,[19] many of which have yet to see the light of day.[20] His legacy was carried on by his students,[21] notable among whom are Ahmad Khayrī Efendi (d. 1967),[22] Husām al-Dīn al-Qudsī (d. 1980), ‘Abd al-Fattāh Abū Ghuddah (d. 1997),[23] and Muhammad Amīn Sirāj (b. 1932),[24] apart from droves of others who received authorization from him.[25]

His exile in Cairo was riddled with impoverished living conditions; despite the odds, his self-sufficiency and contentment were truly commendable. Affluent well-wishers incessantly proffered monetary gifts, but he would politely refuse even though at times he was pressured by circumstances to sell his books—his lifeblood—to make ends meet.[26] When the India-based research center, al-Majlis al-‘Ilmī,[27] gifted him four copies of Jamāl al-Dīn al-Zayla‘ī’s magnum opus, Nasb al-Rāyah li Ahādīth al-Hidāyah, as a token of appreciation he compensated them with fifty copies of his book al-Nukat al-Tarīfah; he could not bear the thought of receiving a gift without returning the favor.[28] Pandering to the wealthy and ruling class was a Faustian bargain he was not prepared to make. His courageous opposition to modern curricular reform[29] and gratuitous government intervention[30] in Turkey is reminiscent of legendary anecdotes of al-‘Izz ibn ‘Abd al-Salam (d. 660 AH)[31] and Muhyī al-Dīn al-Nawawī (d. 676 AH).[32]

Cairo’s volatile scholastic and socio-political milieu was diametrically opposite to the relatively stable intellectual homogeneity in Ottoman Turkey during his tenure as Deputy of the Office of Shaykh al-Islam. This geographical shift sparked within him a new-found zeal.[33] In an unflinching commitment to preserve the traditional teachings of Islam, which he believed were slowly sinking in quicksand, he engaged with schisms of all sorts: he minced no words in his forceful disagreement with modern thinkers who drank from ‘the brackish waters of the West;’[34] he raged against liberal reformists who championed vague slogans of common good as a panacea to all conceivable ills;[35] and he administered the coup de grace to anti-madhhab advocates.[36]

The highlight of his intellectual career was the stimulating dialogues and correspondence with scholars of varying orientations, such as the Ottoman Shaykh al-Islām Mustafā Sabrī (d. 1954),[37] the Moroccan polymath Ahmad al-Ghumarī (d. 1961),[38] and the Yemeni Hadīth scholar ‘Abd al-Rahmān al-Mu‘allimī (d. 1966).[39] Given their diverse background, it is not surprising that these exchanges often brimmed with scholarly fury, but, in the same breath, were not bereft of the mutual decorum characteristic of Islamic dialogues of yesteryear.[40] After disagreeing with Yūnus ibn ‘Abd al-A‘lā (d. 264 AH) on a given issue, Imām al-Shāfī‘ī (d. 204 AH) gently held his hand and asked, “Can we not remain brothers even though we differ on this issue?” [41]

Methodology & Contentions

In the arena of polemics, even the victor seldom exits unscathed—every action has an equal and opposite reaction. Kawtharī, who was in the midst of Cairo’s heated intellectual feuds, was no exception. His damaging critique of not a few groups earned him the ire of detractors who criticized him for a number of perceived flaws, chief among them an excessive partisanship for his legal school and methodological inconsistency. The proceeding explanation, to be sure, is not to say he was absolved of errors—that is intrinsic to human nature. But many of Kawtharī’s supposed shortcomings can be assuaged to a large extent by better understanding his methodology. As such, a word on his modus operandi vis-à-vis prophetic and non-prophetic reports is in order.

An unwavering adherence to the widely-transmitted practice of Muslims is a theme that pervades his works.[42] Time and again, he assures his readers that the legitimacy of his stance is supported by the inherited practice of the vast majority of Companions and Successors.[43] He considered it paramount to gauge the reliability of isolated reports against constants drawn from the aggregate ethos of Islamic teachings; this is typified by his fellow Cairene Hanafī scholar Abū Ja‘far al-Tahāwī (d. 321 AH), who had formulated his unique Hadīth-cum-legal hermeneutics a millennium earlier.[44] More specifically, he advised that a report about/from someone should be studied in light of what is established about him.[45] Moreover, an in-depth reading of history was the sine qua non of his methodology as he took great pains to contextualize and note factors that may have influenced a scholar’s Weltanschauung.[46] To recapitulate his modus operandi in one word: nuance.

Critics derided him for an alleged slavish attachment to the eponym of his legal school and an equally stubborn refusal to accept any critique against him.[47] At the outset, it should be noted that partisanship (ta‘assub) is not a categorically negative quality. That many a prestigious scholar was extolled by the likes of al-Dāraqutnī (d. 385 AH)[48] and al-Hākim (d. 405 AH)[49] for partisanship for noble causes like the Sunnah is quite telling. But in order for it to be praiseworthy, one should be convinced of the veracity of his cause (with the possibility of error in probable issues) and substantiate it with cogent evidence. Given that partisanship (ta’ssaub) in common parlance carries a derogatory connotation, an appropriate substitute would be firm adherence (tamassuk).[50] Kawtharī himself warned of the dangers of odious fanaticism to one’s school since, inter alia, it prompts one to dismiss persuasive arguments as flimsy casuistry, and vice versa.[51] Leading by example, he had no qualms in abandoning the position of Imām Abū Hanīfah in the face of convincing evidence to the contrary, as in the issue of endowments.[52] With this mind, he is to be excused, even commended, for an unflinching devotion to his legal school, because ultimately he was defending a tradition that like others exercised legitimate judgment to arrive at the most accurate interpretation of the foundational sources of Islam. In many cases, his firmness was accentuated by the vehemence of the criticisms, which drove him to reciprocate accordingly.[53]

That a considerable amount of his oeuvre relates to the Hanafī school, in one way or another, was not an act of fanaticism. Rather, given his undisputed proficiency in the school, he was the most qualified to undertake such projects, which he accomplished with competence. He also penned a number of works on other schools, such as a biographical tract on al-Layth ibn Sa‘d (d. 175 AH), who founded an independent legal school, and he encouraged the publication of Ibn Abī Hātim al-Rāzī’s Adāb al-Shāfi‘ī wa Manāqibuhū, for which he also wrote a forward, to name a few.[54]

The second contention raised against him is methodological inconsistency. In other words, he is guilty of criticizing a narrator in one place while deeming him reliable elsewhere. This contention, however, stems from an inadequate understanding of Kawthrī’s methodology. Given that nuance placed an important role in his methodology, he would apply his discretion as a Hadīth expert when employing the reports of a narrator as per the context. This approach is in line with pioneering scholars of Hadīth like Imāms al-Bukhārī (d. 256 AH)[55] and Muslim (d. 261 AH) [56] who would assess the reports of a narrator based on the context through a rigorous selection process.[57] Kawtharī’s treatment of the narrator Muhammad ibn Humayd al-Rāzī (d. 248 AH) is a striking case in point. In a discussion on intersession, he faults Ibn ‘Abd al-Hādī (d. 744 AH) for citing only those who impugned al-Rāzī; as counterweight to this one-sided expose, he highlights the opinions of those who spoke approvingly of him.[58] Contrast this with an article where he exposes the flawed and disingenuous approach of Orientalists who cast doubts on Islam by misconstruing certain reports from books of history and Sīrah; here he states that al-Rāzī’s probity is disputed, but many have vehemently impugned him.[59] Prima facie this may seem inconsistent: in one place, he points out the positive of the narrator while in another other he points out the negative. Far from inconsistency, this demonstrates deep insight. In both scenarios, he openly acknowledges that opinions vary regarding al-Rāzī, but as per the demands of the context—one a rejoinder to a one-sided intra-Islamic polemic while another a response to biased anti-Islamic criticism—he accentuates one opinion over the other.[60]

In a similar manner, he would emphasize an aspect regarding an otherwise unreliable narrator that may have caught the attention of a scholar and prompted him to overlook the narrator’s shortcomings. Consider the case of al-Mughīrah ibn Ziyād (d. 152 AH) where Kawtharī states that although his probity is disputed, since a number of authorities have deemed him reliable and the compilers of the Sunan works transmitted from him, “it is not surprising that a mujtahid would employ his narrations.”[61] In this example, he is clearly not giving the green light of categorical acceptance; instead, he is drawing attention to one dimension that, in tandem with external factors, may have caught the attention of a scholar who ipso facto employed his reports.[62] It is therefore paramount to bear in mind the distinct, multifarious methods scholars devised in developing their views.[63]

Conclusion

Like other prominent figures whose lives decorate the annals of Islamic history, Kawtharī led an enviable life, one that serves as an example par excellence for the scholarly fraternity, in particular. It is tempting to exhaust the many inspirational episodes that fill his biography. This brief expose, however, does not pretend to be an exhaustive study of his life and thought; that would require an encyclopedic, albeit highly appreciated, undertaking. In the foregoing, we momentarily walked in the shoes of Kawtharī, from his humble beginnings in Düzce to his ascendancy in the upper scholarly echelons of the Ottoman Caliphate to his life-changing exile in Cairo. His self-sufficiency, humility, and generosity only enhanced the value of his peerless scholarly acumen. Charges of methodological inconsistency and partisanship for his school of law stem from an inadequate understanding of his modus operandi. Be that as it may, with the passing of Kawtharī, the Muslim world not only mourned the loss of an irreplaceable scholar, but, more precisely, it also sounded the death knell for the remnant of an age gone past.

[2] Surprisingly, his forte appears to have been Qur’ānic studies, based on the following reasons. First, Ibrāhīm al-Akīnī, his primary teacher, was a specialist, inter alia, in the science of Qirā’ah; see: al-Kawtharī, al-Tahrīr al-Wajīz, p.43. Second, he was part of the faculty of specialization in Hadīth and Qur’ānic exegesis where he taught Qur’ānic studies for a lengthy period; see: Ibrāhīm al-Sarrāwī, Introduction to Tabaqāt Ibn Sa‘d, sec. dāl. Finally, his most celebrated book is a two-volume introduction to Qur’ānic studies—it was left behind in Istanbul prior to his migration and is yet to be located; see: Khayrī, al-Imām al-Kawtharī in al-Maqālāt, p.451; al-Kawtharī, al-Maqālāt, p.22.

[4] In fact, his first work was a Persian poem on Arabic grammar entitled Nazm ‘Awāmil al-I‘rāb. He also wrote a one-volume critique on Muhammad al-Akīnī’s gloss on al-Fawā’id al-Diyā’iyyah (that is, ‘Abd al-Rahmān al-Jāmī’s [d. 998 AH] renowned commentary, commonly known as Sharh Mullā Jāmī fi al-Nahw, on Ibn Hājib’s [d. 646 AH] al-Kāfiyah). This is in addition to a ten-page treatise where he resolves the ambiguity of a passage from al-Muharram’s supercommentary on Jāmī’s aforementioned book. See: Khayrī, al-Imām al-Kawtharī in al-Maqālāt, p.450. For a glimpse into the sophisticated nature of Jāmī’s commentary, see: Moosa, Ebrahim (2015), What Is a Madrasa?, pp.117-18.

[5] Among the theological works he critically edited and annotated were Ibn Qutaybah’s al-Ikhtilāf fī al-Lafż, al-Bayhaqī’s al-Asmā’ wa al-Sifāt, Imām al-Haramayn’s al-‘Aqīdah al-Niżāmiyyah, and a number of treatises attributed to Imām Abū Hanīfah, such as al-Alim wa al-Muta‘allim and al-Fiqh al-Absat.

[6] This is clear to anyone who even reads his books out of curiosity. His marginal comments on his personal copy of ‘Abd al-Hayy al-Kattānī’s Fahras al-Fahāris are brilliant examples—among countless others—of his precision in the transmission of Hadīth. Muhammad Al Rashīd reproduced these comments in: al-Imām Zāhid al-Kawtharī wa Ishāmātuhū fī ‘Ilm al-Riwāyah wa al-Isnād, p. 74 ff.

[8] To be precise, he was born in a village called al-Hājj Hasan Efendi, named after his father who had founded it, situated three miles south of Düzce. See: al-Kawtharī, al-Tahrīr al-Wajīz, p.43.

[9] Classical Ottoman scholarship for the most part was shaped by three seminaries of learning: (1) the first seminary in Nicea in 1331 CE by Orhan Gazi; (2) the Fatih Mosque and Complex with its Sahn-i Seman (lit. eight courtyards, or, madrasas) by Mehmet the Conqueror in Constantinople in 1471 CE; and (3) the Süleymaniye Mosque under the instruction of Sultan Süleyman in 1557 CE. See: Ozervarli, Sait (2016), Theology in Ottoman Lands in The Oxford Handbook of Islamic Theology (ed. Sabine Scmidtke), Oxford: Oxford University Press, p.570. On the vibrant scholarly activity in Ottoman lands during the 17th century, see Khaled El Rouayheb’s phenomenal study “Islamic Intellectual History in the Seventeenth Century: Scholarly Current in the Ottoman Empire and the Maghreb.” By examining the works of various scholars in the Ottoman Empire and North Africa, the author argues against the notion that the 17th century was a period of intellectual stagnation in the Muslim world, a notion that “risks reinforcing the impression that on the one side of the Mediterranean in the seventeenth century one encounters Galileo, Kepler, Bacon, Newton, Descartes, Malebranche, Spinoza, Locke, and Leibniz, whereas on the other side one encounters popular chroniclers, Sufi diarists, popularizers of medical or occult knowledge, and the like” (p.3).

[10] At the medrese complex, a prospective student would select a teacher of his choice with whom he would spend the following 15 years learning all the sciences. The teacher would deliver only two lessons daily, for which he would prepare throughout the day. Upon graduation, a student would in effect become a carbon copy of his mentor. The teacher would then restart the cycle with a new batch of students for another 15 years. Kawtharī’s teacher at first was Ibrāhīm Haqqī al-Akīnī (d. 1318/1901) and after he passed away he completed the course with ‘Alī Zayn al-‘Abidin al-Alasūnī (d. 1329/1911) in compliance with al-Akīnī’s bequest; this was apart from select books he studied privately with other teachers. On the intriguing pedagogy employed at the Fātih Mosque, see: al-Kawtharī, al-Tahrīr al-Wajīz, pp.9, 32-33. For a light hearted, yet miraculous, incident that occurred during preparation for his final exam, see: ibid., p.38.

[11] In the Ottoman Caliphate, the office of Shaykh al-Islām, the highest scholarly position, was designated to the head of religious affairs. This title was used earlier unofficially to refer to a scholar of great repute and an authority in religious matters. See: Abū Ghuddah, al-‘Ulamā’ al-‘Uzzāb, p.46. Since the Shaykh al-Islām was often preoccupied with political affairs, he was appointed three deputies: one to pass legal verdicts; a second to head the department of education (i.e. pedagogy, scholars, and religious institutes); and a third to oversee judicial affairs. Kawtharī occupied the second post known as Wakīl al-Dars, akin to the post of Shaykh al-Azhar in Egypt. See: Khayrī, al-Imām al-Kawtharī, p.437; al-Kawtharī, al-Tahrīr al-Wajīz, p.38.

[12] His trips to Damascus were for purely academic reasons. He spent his time buried in the rare manuscripts held in the vaults of the Zāhiriyyah Library—days would go by without food. See: Wahbī Sulaymān, Introduction to al-Imām Zāhid al-Kawtharī wa Ishāmātuhū, p.6; Mutī‘, Tārīkh ‘Ulamā’ Dimashq, vol.3, p.417.

[14] Interestingly, Kawtharī personally told ‘Abd al-‘Azīz al-Ghumārī that his memory was such that with one glance at a passage from a book, he would not forget the line, let alone the page; that was until a near-death experience while in Turkey where he almost drowned, after which his memory was not the same. See: al-Ghumārī, al-Safīnah, vol.1, 169; cf. Al Rashīd, al-Imām Muhammad Zāhid, p.193. This near-death experience is described in: Khayrī, al-Imām al-Kawtharī, p.435. Now, with this in mind consider the story in reference before his demise.

[18] This is in addition to the forwards and introductions he wrote for a wide-range of books and treatises that are significant works in their own right. That many of articles and introductions were posthumously printed for a broader readership demonstrates the value these writings held in the sight of scholars. It should be noted that the present compilation of his articles is not exhaustive; Iyād al-Ghawj wrote a piece on the articles that were not included. See: al-Sarhān, Footnotes on Rasā’il al-Imām Muhammad Zāhid al-Kawtharī, pp.107-8.

[20] For a list of his writings, see: Khayrī, al-Imām al-Kawtharī, pp.450-59. His writings were characterized with a succinct and lucid literary style that allowed him to write in one volume what would otherwise require several volumes. See: ‘Awwāmah, Forward to al-Musannaf, vol.20, p.10.

[21] During his tenure as professor at the Fātih Mosque, he lectured the largest class, and hundreds of students graduated under his auspices. See: al-Sarrāwī, Introduction to Tabaqāt Ibn Sa‘d, sec. dāl.

[22] He was one of Kawtharī’s closest post-migration students, whose authoritative biography is cited throughout this article. For a short biography of Ahmad Khayrī, see: Al Rashīd, al-Imām Muhammad Zāhid al-Kawtharī, pp.149-53.

[23] He enjoyed a close relationship with Kawtharī during his studies at al-Azhar. He even took on the sobriquet ‘al-Kawtharī’ and named his eldest son Muhammad Zāhid out of love for his teacher. See: Al Rashīd, al-Imām al-Muhammad Zāhid, p.164. Kawtharī gave him the agnomen Abū al-Futūh and highly praised him. See: Al Rashīd, Imdād al-Fattāh, p.146; al-Kawtharī, Introduction to Manāqib wa Adāb al-Shāfi‘ī, p.541. However, he had no qualms in openly disagreeing with his teacher on certain issues with due respect. See, for instance: Abū Ghuddah, Kalimāt fī Kashf Abātīl wa Iftirā’āt, p.38.

[25] For a well-prepared list of his students and those who received authorization from him, see: Al Rashīd, al-Imām al-Muhammad Zāhid, p.147 ff.

[26] Al-Kawtharī (2013), Rasā’il al-Imām Muhammad Zāhid al-Kawtharī ilā al-‘Allāmah Muhammad Yūsuf al-Bannūrī, ed. Su‘ūd al-Sarhān, Jordan: Dār al-Fath, p.45. Kawtharī developed a close bond with Shaykhs Yūsuf al-Bannūrī (d. 1977) and Ahmad al-Bijnawrī (d. 1997), two exceptionally talented scholars from Deoband, when the latter arrived in Cairo in the Spring of 1938 for scholarly work at the behest of the newly founded al-Majlis al-‘Ilmī. During their short stay, they sought out Kawtharī and enjoyed his companionship; Kawtharī would later reminisce over the fruitful time they had spent together. In the following year, Kawtharī and Bannūrī began corresponding via letters—from April, 24, 1939 until February, 3, 1952 shortly before the former’s demise. After more than a decade of correspondence, Kawtharī concludes his final letter with the following tear-inducing words, “My deteriorating health prevents me from continuing this correspondence with you and with Mawlānā Abū al-Wafā’ [al-Afghānī; d. 1975]—every beginning has an end. My soul is with you, praying for you every goodness. And upon you [peace] and Allah’s mercy and blessings.” See: Ibid., pp.24, 32, 222. This page turning correspondence, of which only Kawtharī’s letters are published, is a first-hand account into many less known aspects of his life.

[27] On the history and activities of al-Majlis al-‘Ilmī, see: al-Bannūrī, Introduction to Nasb al-Rāyah, vol.1, p.2.

[30] An attempt was made to demolish a madrasah built by Sultan Mustafa III (d. 1187/1774) to make way for a shelter for disaster victims. In a bold act that cost him the leadership post as Wakīl al-Dars, Kawtharī vehemently protested the intervention on religious grounds. See: Ibid., p.437.

[38] Whatever the misunderstanding that caused the subsequent furor, Ahmad al-Ghumārī eventually ceased his critique and personally went to Kawtharī to apologize and reconcile, and he described him as a “verifying hadith scholar with expansive research;” this was verified by al-Ghumārī’s close student ‘Abd Allah al-Talīdī. See: ‘Awwāmah, Manhaj al-Imām al-Kawtharī, p.24.

[42] He writes, “I have always called towards an adherence of the sharī‘ah of Allah by mobilizing under the flags of these imams (Allah be pleased with them all), without paying heed to dissenters on the peripherals and fundamentals.” See: al-Kawtharī, al-Sirā‘ al-Akhīr bayn al-Islām wa al-Wathaniyyah in al-Maqālāt, p.306.

[45] For instance, one should examine negative reports about Imām Abū Hanīfah against what is widely transmitted about him. As Kawtharī says, “authentic isolated reports cannot overrule what is widespread (al-mustafīd al-mashhūr), let alone what is concurrently transmitted (mutawātir).” See: al-Kawtharī, Ta’nīb al-Khatīb, p.31. A practical example is reports concerning Ibn Mas‘ūd’s exclusion of the mu’awwidhatayn in his copy of the Qur’ān. Reports of this nature cannot be accepted as they conflict with what is widely related that Ibn Mas‘ūd taught these sūrahs to his students, as is transmitted via six of the ten modes of Qur’ānic recitation. See: al-Kawtharī, Masāhif al-Amsār in al-Maqālāt, p.16; ‘Awwāmah, Footnotes on al-Madkhal, vol.1, p.349.

[49] Al-Hākim said regarding Abū al-Fadl al-Tūsī (d. 348 AH), “In Khurasān, he was one of the pillars of Hadīth in addition to his religiosity, asceticism, generosity, and partisanship for the People of Sunnah.” See: Ibn ‘Asākir, Tārīkh Madīnat Dimashq, vol.62, p.45.

[50]As Ibn Mullā Farrūkh (d. 1061 AH) aptly points out, scholars from all the schools of law “expressly state the impermissibility of ta’assub but the correctness of firm adherence (salābah) to the madhhab.” In this context, ta‘ssub, he continues, is a desire-driven inclination to support one’s school and to interact with another school condescendingly. See: Ibn Mullā Farrūkh, al-Qawl al-Sadīd fī Ba‘d Masā’il al-Ijtihād wa al-Taqlīd, p.46.

[53] In his critique of Imām al-Haramayn al-Juwaynī (d. 478 AH), he writes, “God willing, I will a tread a moderate path between gentleness and harshness as per the demands of the argument I will critique, proportionate to its veracity and the lack thereof, giving according to his ‘measurement scale’ without meekness and virulence.” See: al-Kawtharī, Ihqāq al-Haqq, p.15; cf. idem, Rasā’il, p.92.

[55] Ibn Hajar (d. 852 AH) explains al-Bukhārī’s reason for narrating the hadiths of ‘Abd Allah ibn Sālih, which is his modus operandi vis-à-vis narrators of this class, “Whatever he transmits from his hadiths is authentic since he sieved them from [the corpus of] his hadiths.” See: Ibn Hajar, Hudā al-Sārī, vol.1, p.415.

[56] In justifying Muslim’s transmission from Matar al-Warrāq, a narrator with questionable memory, Ibn al-Qayyim al-Jawzī (d. 751 AH) writes, “There is no fault on the part of Muslim for relating his hadiths, because he selected from the hadiths of this class what he believed they remembered just as he abandoned from the hadiths of a reliable narrator where he believed that narrator erred.” See: Ibn al-Qayyim, Zād al-Ma‘ād, vol.1, p.353.

[58] Al-Kawtharī, Mahq al-Taqawwul in al-Maqālāt, p.351. That he pointed out al-Subkī’s error too, with whom he agreed overall on the subject, and that he mentioned additional criticism on al-Rāzī demonstrate his sincere search for the correct position.

[63] Kawtharī explains that all Sunnī scholars accepted the Prophet’s hadīths as the second source of law, but in so doing each scholar formulated his respective techniques of text-based and isnād-based analysis. See: al-Kawtharī, al-Hāwī fī Sīrat al-Imām Abī Ja‘far al-Tahāwī, p.19. Even the Companions employed various methods of verifying the reliability of hadiths, like juxtaposing it with the Qur’ān. See, for instance: Ibn Mansūr, Sa‘īd (1982), al-Sunan, ed. al-A‘żamī, India: al-Dār al-Salafiyyah, vol.1, p.268.

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]]>https://ahadithnotes.com/2017/01/23/the-life-and-thought-of-imam-zahid-al-kawthari/feed/3letter-2mzaman36letter-2Book Review: The Reports of Abū Mikhnaf in al-Tabarī’s History: The Era of the Rightly Guided Caliphshttps://ahadithnotes.com/2016/12/25/book-review-the-reports-of-abu-mikhnaf-in-al-tabaris-history-the-era-of-the-rightly-guided-caliphs/
https://ahadithnotes.com/2016/12/25/book-review-the-reports-of-abu-mikhnaf-in-al-tabaris-history-the-era-of-the-rightly-guided-caliphs/#commentsSun, 25 Dec 2016 22:39:54 +0000http://ahadithnotes.com/?p=1106Book Review: The Reports of Abū Mikhnaf in al-Tabarī’s History: The Era of the Rightly Guided Caliphs, a Critical Appraisal

The rapid expansion of Islam’s borders from a fledgling state to a massive empire is arguably one of the greatest military feats. By 30 AH/650 CE, the entire Arabian Peninsula and the area spanning from Egypt on the west to the Iranian plateau on the east were all under Muslim rule.[1] The annals of Islamic history are replete with extraordinary accomplishments by Muslims throughout this vast landscape. In the same breath, however, one comes across pages blemished with internecine conflict and political strife. Reports of this nature prima facie are clearly troubling, but this can be assuaged to a considerable extent by probing their authenticity.[2] Sieving the reliable from the unreliable is of greater importance in regards to the formative period of Islam,[3] particularly the Prophet’s life and the decades that immediately proceeded his demise, as it serves as a window to Islam in its most pristine form.[4]

One method of carrying this out is to critically examine influential historians who played a key role in shaping the dominant narrative of early Islamic history, specifically those who were the center of heated contention, such as Muhammad ibn Ishāq (d. 151 AH),[5] Sayf ibn ‘Umar al-Tamīmī (d. ca. 180 AH),[6] and Muhammad ibn ‘Umar al-Wāqidī (d. 207 AH).[7] To this end, Shaykh Yahyā Ibrāhīm al-Yahyā in his landmark study Marwiyyāt Abī Mikhnaf fī Tārīkh al-Tabarī sets out to examine a historian of ill repute, the Kūfan Abū Mikhnaf (d. 157 AH). The present study—based on the author’s M.A dissertation submitted to the Islamic University of Madīnah under the supervision of the renowned historian, Dr. Diyā’ al-Umarī—analyzes the historical accounts of Abū Mikhnaf in al-Tabarī’s History, with specific reference to the era of the Rightly-Guided Caliphs (r. 11-40 AH). This short review aims to summarize the author’s research, explore certain points of importance, and make brief comments in the relevant footnotes. The driving impetus for this review is to draw the attention of students and scholars to this phenomenal study; hence, a digital copy of the book is provided here.

Summary

After the introduction (pp.5-22), the book consists of two chapters. The first chapter comprises of four sections; the first explores the life and times of Abū Mikhnaf (pp.25-87), followed by three sections which analyze his accounts of the reign of the first three caliphs, viz. Abū Bakr, ‘Umar, and ‘Uthmān (Allah be pleased with them) respectively—a total of 18 reports (pp.89-185). Considering the extensive material on the fourth caliph ‘Alī (Allah be pleased with him), the author dedicated the second chapter to reports about his reign. This chapter also comprises of four sections, viz. his ascendance to the caliphate, the Battle of Jamal, the Battle of Siffīn, and the Arbitration—a total of 126 reports (pp.189-484). He then concludes the book by recapitulating its key findings (pp.487-491)[8] and follows this with the relevant indices (pp.491-512). The author discusses copious insights throughout the book; by way of illustration, this review will delineate essential aspects from the introduction and select passages in order to provide an overview of his study.

By applying a stringent set of criteria in assessing the status of these prolific historians, one may object that a large portion of history will be lost since early Muslim scholars were lenient vis-à-vis historical reports. There are three reasons why this objection is unacceptable. First, history books are not the sole repository of historical reports; there are countless anecdotes recorded in the Hadīth, exegetical, and prosopographical literature, from which an authentic sketch of early Islamic history can be drawn—obviously, in addition to reliable reports in history books.[9] Second, as the purpose of reading history is to derive practical lessons from actual occurrences, it is pointless to collate unreliable reports. Third, that scholars adopted a relatively lenient stance in respect to historical reports is not to say they accepted the reports of all and sundry; though a non-Hadīth transmitter’s retention, for instance, is not required to the degree of a Hadīth transmitter, the same is not true for his probity (p.8).

The author highlights five points he believes are imperative for students of history to bear in mind, such as reading history through the lens of the society whose culture one seeks to explore[10] and analyzing a report about/from someone against what is already established regarding him (pp.9-11).[11] This is followed by a brief outline of al-Tabarī’s modus operandi, e.g. despite the voluminous nature of the book, he included chains of transmission, but, in the same vein, he did not ensure the authenticity of the reports therein (pp.11-14).[12] His focus on Abū Mikhnaf is convincing as he is of questionable probity yet occupies a significant part of al-Tabarī’s repertoire: roughly 600 reports spanning the period from the Prophet’s demise to the fall of the Umayyads in 132 AH/750 CE, undoubtedly the most crucial years in Islam’s history (p.6). Since they lived about a century apart, al-Tabarī obviously narrated material from Abū Mikhnaf via intermediaries; to be precise, he did so through five channels, some of which are problematic (pp.58-63).

Abū Mikhnaf: His name was Lūt ibn Yahyā al-Azdī, born in ca. 90 AH in the city of Kūfah. He hailed from a family deeply involved in the political affairs of the city: they accompanied ‘Alī ibn Abī Tālib (Allāh be pleased with him) during his campaigns and occupied important offices. He passed away in 157 AH (pp.27-32). Apart from a vague epithet “authority of historical reports in Kūfah” from a Shī‘ite source, there is a dearth of information on his educational upbringing. Nearly fifty titles are attributed to him, mostly covering the history of ‘Irāq, such as K. Futūh al-‘Irāq and K. Maqtal al-Husayn. Though his works were incorporated into later sources, none of them are extant in their original form. He can be analogized with a journalist who seeks out news from multifarious sources, particularly first hand witnesses, which is why his informants are many but not a few of them are unknown (pp.47-57).[13]

That a one’s environment profoundly influences his Weltanschauung goes without saying. Abū Mikhnaf is therefore to be assessed against the theological, scholastic, and socio-political milieu of his hometown, Kūfah. The prosperous southern ‘Irāqī city founded in 17 AH under the auspices of ‘Umar ibn al-Khattāb hosted well over a thousand Companions, among them the likes of Ibn Mas‘ūd and ‘Alī, and produced some of the greatest Muslim scholars.[14] The intellectual florescence and scholarly currents in Kūfah notwithstanding, it became a center for Shī‘ite thought, at first as an innocuous admiration for ‘Alī and his descendants but later it evolved into extreme veneration (ghulūw).[15] The Battle of Siffīn (37 AH), inter alia, left an indelible mark on the people of Kūfah whereby it instilled within them resentment towards the Umayyads and henceforth set the tone for posterity. Nevertheless, two major developments concern us here: (1) extreme veneration—even deification—of ‘Alī in tandem with animosity towards the Companions[16] and (2) widespread fabrication of reports (pp.33-41).[17]

Given his family history and environment of upbringing, it comes as no surprise that Abū Mikhnaf was categorically considered a Shī‘ite. And, more seriously, his beliefs had a direct bearing on his portrayal of early historical accounts. Hadīth scholars impugned him in no uncertain terms: Ibn Ma‘īn (d. 233 AH) said he is unreliable, Abū Hātim al-Rāzī (d. 277 AH) said he is abandoned in Hadīth, and Ibn Hibbān (d. 354 AH) said he was a Rāfidī who cursed the Companions and related fabrications from reliable informants—to name a few. Conversely, Shī‘ite scholars like Ahmad al-Najāshī (d. 450 AH) and Ibn Mutahhar al-Hillī (d. 726 AH) have embraced him, for the most part, with open arms (pp. 41-46).

One should not, however, be quick to reject the Mikhnafian corpus en bloc, since in some instances these accounts are attested by other sources (e.g. Khālid’s letter to the Persians, p.143). That being said, the general assessment of Abū Mikhnaf’s oeuvre turns out to be terribly negative. In the reports examined by the study under review, he narrated unattested accounts (e.g. ‘Umar striking Abū Shajarah, p.150), included unverified details (e.g. the incident of Saqīfat Banī Sā‘idah, p.122) and even engaged in deliberate interpolation (e.g. ‘Alī taking the pledge of allegiance, p.191). All of this reinforces the author’s thesis that Abū Mikhnaf is a disreputable source. Even if his deficiencies as a transmitter are dismissed, and we assume a tabula rasa, his reports are almost always defective with interruptions in their chains or transmitted from unreliable informants (p.488).

Conclusion

Few books have managed to serve a pivotal role in portraying early Islamic history as al-Tabarī’s opus, Tārīkh al-Umam wa al-Mulūk. Considering its potential impact in shaping our understanding of history, there is a pressing need to verify the major sources this voluminous work relied upon. [18] Yahyā al-Yahyā’s Marwiyyāt Abī Mikhnaf fī Tārīkh al-Tabarī is a welcome contribution in achieving this goal. His detailed examination of Abū Mikhnaf’s reports vis-à-vis the era of the Rightly-Guided Caliphs (r. 11-40 AH) demonstrates the need to revisit a number of accounts and sources that have hitherto largely been taken for granted. The author is to be recognized for engaging his readers with practical case studies—not a mere theoretical expose of scholarly opinions, ubiquitous in contemporary literature—arguably the most effective method to arrive at a conclusive judgment. By synthesizing theory with application, the present study offers a trajectory for further academic research in a genre still in its nascent phase. It is the duty of scholars to follow his cue by replicating this framework on other influential historians—students of historiography look forward for such projects to materialize.

[1] Cook, David (2015) Understanding Jihad, California: University of California Press, p.11. To quantify this statement, consider that by the end of ‘Uthmān’s reign in 35 AH, a total of 3,500,000 sq. miles of territory came under Muslim rule. See: Hamīdullah, Majmū‘at al-Wathā’iq al-Siyāsiyyah, p.499; al-A‘żamī, Mustafa (2003) The History of the Qur’ānic Text: From Revelation to Compilation, Leicester: UK Islamic Academy, p.38.

[2] Abū al-Yusr ‘Abidīn mentions a number of reasons mistakes creep into books of history, such as an overly good opinion of certain sources, human error, impartiality to one’s school, and more recently the preponderance of printed material and news that lack a rigorous process of authentication. See: Abū al-Yusr, Muhammad (2006), Aghālīt al-Mu’rrikhīn, Damascus: Maktabat al-Ghazālī, pp.17-21.

[3] The formative period of Islamic history is said to have ended around the 3rdAH/10thCE century. See: Robinson, Chase (2003), Islamic Historiography, Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, p.xviii. However, the ‘formative period’ varies based on the given context; see, for instance: Shamsy, Ahmad (2012), The Canonization of Islamic Law, Cambridge: Cambridge University Press pp. 2 ff., 168-169.

[6] On Sayf ibn ‘Umar, see: Blankinship, Khalid (1993), The History of al-Tabarī, Translator’s Forward, New York: State University of New York Press, vol.11, p.xvi ff.; Anthony, Sean (2011), The Caliph and the Heretic: Ibn Saba’ and the Origins of Shi’ism, Leiden: Brill, p.9 ff. Recently, some of Sayf’s works have been discovered, such as his K. al-Riddah wa al-Futūh and K. al-Jamal wa Masīr ‘A’ishah wa ‘Alī; both were edited and annotated by Qāsim al-Samarrā’ī.

[8] His findings are summarized in eleven points. To name a few: (i) Abū Mikhnaf is unanimously unreliable, and he deliberately distorts information; (ii) al-Tabarī’s reliance on Abū Mikhnaf for reports concerning the Battle of Siffīn, for instance, to the exclusion of other available works does not mean he preferred Abū Mikhnaf’s account; he was possibly unaware of sources; (iii) that Abū Bakr’s son Muhammad had a hand in ‘Uthmān’s assassination is false.

[9] For instance, the account of Saqifah Banī Sā‘idah is reported by leading authorities like al-Bukhārī (d. 256 AH), Ahmad (d. 241 AH), Ibn Abī Shaybah (d. 235 AH) among others, and therefore, a full description of the incident can be constructed from these sources. The author bemoans the nonchalance with which many history books, in spite of the aforementioned fact, choose to include only the account of Abū Mikhnaf (p.488).

[10] Accordingly, it is disingenuous to criticize the marriage of our mother ‘A’ishah at a young age based on modern marital ethics. Despite the lengths his most ardent critics would go to criticize him, the Prophet’s marriage (peace and blessings be upon him) with ‘A’ishah was never considered problematic since marriage at a young age was socially acceptable. This does not seem to be an issue until the early 1900s with the Orientalist David Margoliouth (d. 1940). See: Brown, Jonathan (2014), Misquoting Muhammad: The Challenge and Choices of Interpreting the Prophet’s Legacy, London: Oneworld Publication, p.144; idem (2011), Muhammad: A Very Short Introduction, Oxford: Oxford Press, p.76.

[11] For instance, one should examine negative reports about Imām Abū Hanīfah against what is widely transmitted about him. As al-Kawtharī says, “authentic isolated reports cannot overrule what is widespread (al-mustafīd al-mashhūr), let alone what is mass transmitted (mutawātir).” See: al-Kawtharī, Ta’nīb al-Khatīb, p.31. A practical example is reports concerning Ibn Mas‘ūd’s exclusion of the mu’awwidhatayn in his copy of the Qur’ān. Reports of this nature cannot be accepted as they conflict with what is widely related that Ibn Mas‘ūd taught these sūrahs to his students, as is transmitted via six of the ten modes of Qur’ānic recitation. See: al-Kawtharī, Masāhif al-Amsār in al-Maqālāt, p.16; ‘Awwāmah, Footnotes on al-Madkhal, vol.1, p.349.

[12] Ibn Hajar writes, “Most Hadīth scholars of the past—from 200 AH onwards—believed that citing a hadith with its chain of transmission absolved one of the responsibility [of analyzing it].” See: Ibn Hajar, Lisān al-Mīzān, vol.4 p.125; cf. ‘Awwāmah, Footnotes on Tadrīb al-Rāwī, vol.3, pp.519-520. Zayn al-Dīn al-‘Irāqī explains that although citing a hadith alongside its problematic chain without expounding on its defects is reprehensible, to do so without citing its chain at all is worse. See: al-‘Irāqī, Sharh al-Tabsirah wa al-Tadhkirah, vol.1, p.313; Brown, Jonathan, Did the Prophet Say It or Not? The Literal, Historical, and Effective Truth of Hadīths in Early Sunnism,Journal of the American Oriental Society(2009), pp.281-282.

[14] On the academic standing of Kūfah, see: al-Kawtharī, Fiqh Ahl al-‘Irāq, pp.51-65. A translation of this section is available here.

[15] It is unfair, as the author himself points out, to place the entirety of Kūfah throughout its history into one category. On the negative statements by Hadith scholars concerning the hadiths of Kūfah, see: ‘Awwāmah, Footnotes on Tadrīb al-Rāwī, vol.2, pp.248-255.

[16] As Wadad Kadi points out, the distinguishing traits of the early Shī’ah were “attribution of supernatural abilities to ‘Alī and his descendants, and hatred towards the Companions and the first three caliphs.” On the other extreme, some Umayyads vilified ‘Alī and his party. Sunnī scholars from Kūfah, however, struck a balance: they rejected both tendencies by revering all the Companions despite their mutual differences—this was a quintessential hallmark of the Sunnī Weltanschauung. See: Kadi, Wadad, The Development of the Term Ghulāt in Muslim Literature; Stodolsky, Volkan (2012), A New Historical Model and Periodization for The Perception of the Sunnah of the Prophet and His Companions, (Unpublished PhD – ProQuest), pp.195-196.

[17] It should be remembered that these fabrications did not go undetected. ‘Abd Allah ibn al-Mubārak said, “If a person tried to fabricate a hadīth at night, by dawn people will announce: so and so is a liar!” And when he was asked, “What to do with these forgeries?” he replied, “The critical scholars live for this.” See: Al-Rāzī, al-Jarh wa al-Ta‘dīl, vol.1, p.3; Ibn al-Jawzī, al-Mawdū‘āt, vol.1, pp.38-39.

[18] On al-Tabarī’s sources, see: ‘Alī, Jawwād (2012), Mawārid Tārīkh al-Tabarī, Ch.1; Rosenthal, Franz (1989), The History of al-Tabarī, Translator’s Forward, New York: State University of New York Press, vol.1, pp.5-10, 53-54.

“And true virtue is what critics cannot help but acknowledge” goes the popular adage.[1] A case in point is where the renowned Orientalist Aloys Sprenger (d. 1893 CE) humbles his pen to write, “There is no nation, nor has there been any which like them [Muslims] has during twelve centuries recorded the life of every man of letters.”[2] The exclusivity of Muslims vis-à-vis the isnād system, as explained earlier, lies in their detailed evaluations of the transmitters who form the chains of transmission, better known as al-Jarh wa al-Ta‘dīl (lit. criticism and accreditation). In this article, we will briefly outline the origins and development, basic nomenclature, procedures, and relevant literature in the science of al-Jarh wa al-Ta‘dīl (henceforth narrator criticism).

To ensure the accurate transmission of the Prophet’s teachings, the science of narrator criticism inherently involves an exposition of a narrator’s personal details. [3] Disclosing a narrator’s faults for a greater need can be justified by verses from the Qur’ān,[4] the practice of the Prophet (peace and blessings be upon him),[5] and the higher objectives of Islamic law.[6] Since this permission was granted as an exception, it is limited to disclosing relevant information that has a direct bearing on transmission.[7] Consequently, when a narrator’s status can be made apparent by highlighting one flaw, it is unlawful to mention a second.[8]

Narrator criticism began early in Islamic history.[9] Among the Companions, the names of ‘Umar, ‘Alī, Ibn ‘Abbās, and ‘A’ishah (Allāh be pleased with them) feature prominently among the first group of narrator critics.[10] This practice was then inherited by the subsequent generation of senior Successors, such as Sa‘īd ibn al-Musayyab (d. 94 AH),[11] ‘Amir al-Sha‘bī (d. 103 AH), and Ibn Sīrīn (d. 110 AH).[12] Like other Islamic disciplines, the material on narrator criticism during the first century is fairly minimal. This owes itself to the fact that transmitters at the time were either Companions, who were collectively upright, or senior Successors, among whom were relatively few impugned transmitters.[13]

From the mid second century, narrator criticism began to take form as a distinct science with an increase in the number of expert critics and the formulation of narrator categorization.[14] Apart from an apocryphal report attributed to ‘Alī ibn Abī Tālib,[15] the earliest extant transmitter categorization belongs to ‘Abd al-Rahmān ibn Mahdī (d. 198 AH) whose tripartite classification is as follows: (1) an expert prolific memorizer; there is no disagreement regarding him (2) who errs but majority of his narrations are authentic; his narrations will not be abandoned (3) whose narrations are predominantly mistakes; his narrations will be abandoned.[16] In the following century, Muslim ibn al-Hajjāj (d. 261 AH) categorized narrators into three classes[17] and Abū ‘Īsā al-Tirmidhī (d. 279 AH) into four but within a similar framework.[18] These three scholars laid the foundation of systematic narrator categorization and assessment for those who followed. [19]

Early narrator critics used various expressions to either criticize or approve narrators, without any universal principle governing the application of these expressions. A critic would describe a narrator with an expression he believed would best reflect his status. [20] Therefore, when Yahyā ibn Maī‘n (d. 233 AH), for instance, describes a narrator with the phrase ‘la ba’s bihī’ (lit. there is no issue with him) its indication would not necessarily be the same had it come from another critic, say, Ahmad ibn Hanbal (d. 241 AH). [21] Inheriting this rich, albeit scattered, heritage of narrator criticism from his predecessors, Ibn Abī Hātim al-Rāzī (d. 327 AH) set out to organize these expressions in a coherent form.[22] The following chart illustrates his rendition of these expressions: [23]

Before passing a judgment, a critic would have to take a range of issues into consideration: a narrator’s personality, narrations, teachers, beliefs, travels, etc.[31] But in a nutshell, the most important areas which drew the interest of critics, and which formed the basis for other criteria, are a narrator’s integrity (‘adālah) and retention (dabt).[32] There are a number of methods critics employed to gauge a narrator’s integrity and retention, but for the sake of brevity, we will look at four common methods. [33]

The first, and most obvious, method was to observe the activities or study the documented life of a narrator.[34] The second method was to ask a narrator questions related to his hadiths like the time and/or place he heard them or the description of his informant. ‘Āmir al-Khazzāz, for instance, was caught red handed when he told a questioner that he heard from ‘Atā ibn Abī Rabāh in the year 124 AH—more than a decade after ‘Atā’ had passed away.[35] The third method was to examine a narrator. This was carried out by presenting him unfamiliar or altered narrations (talqīn al-rāwī).[36] Depending on how a narrator reacted to such narrations, a critic could gauge his alertness, or the lack thereof.[37] Alternatively, a critic could engage a narrator in a discussion and thereby examine his status as a transmitter.[38] It was through this method Ahmad ibn Muhammad al-Wazzān realized that al-Nadr ibn Salamah was a liar. [39] The fourth method was to analyze the source texts (usūl) of a narrator. For example, Abū Zur‘ah explains that he consulted the source texts of Suwayd ibn Sa‘īd and concluded that they are authentic; when he narrates from memory, however, he is unreliable. [40]

The evaluations of these critics were documented in various books for scholarly reference. The porosopograpical literature is vast—based on regions, schools of thought, field of study, etc.—and deserves an independent study. For the purpose of the present article, we can categorize the biographical works of narrator criticism into three broad categories: reliable transmitters, weak transmitters, and a combination of both groups.[41] Extant literature on reliable transmitters[42] include Ibn Hibbān’s (d. 354 AH) al-Thiqāt[43] and Ibn Shāhīn’s (d. 385 AH) Tārīkh Asmā’ al-Thiqāt.[44] Extant literature on weak transmitters include al-Bukhārī’s al-Du‘afā’ al-Saghīr, Ibn Hibbān’s al-Majrūhīn[45] and Ibn ‘Adī’s (d. 365) al-Kāmil fī Du‘afā’ al-Rijāl.[46] Extant literature that comprises transmitters of both groups include al-Bukhārī’s al-Tārīkh al-Kabīr[47] and Ibn Abī Hātim al-Rāzī’s (d. 327 AH) al-Jarh wa al-Ta‘dīl.[48] A rich resource for narrator evaluations is the su’ālāt genre (Q&A), which have contributions from leading authorities like Yahyā ibn Ma‘īn[49] and ‘Alī ibn al-Madīnī (d. 234 AH).[50]

These critics were, after all, human and therefore prone to error.[51] With this in mind, later scholars identified a number of factors that may have played a role in influencing a critic’s judgment, such as varying tendencies,[52] possible bias,[53] and regional differences.[54] Be it as it may, it goes without saying that these scholars left an unparalleled example of impartiality. [55] When it came to a matter of transmission, ‘Alī ibn al-Madīnī (d. 234 AH) had no qualms in revealing his father’s weakness,[56] and Zayd ibn Abī ’Unaysah (d. c.125 AH) openly declared his brother’s inability to narrate.[57] They were unwilling to compromise their standards of fairness even for a blank check, so to speak. When asked to remain silent about a doubtful individual in lieu of a handsome sum of wealth, ‘Affān ibn Muslim al-Saffār (d. 220 AH) refused to accept the bribe despite his impoverished state.[58] At this point, it is justified to echo the sentiments of the poet al-Farazdaq (d. 110 AH), “These are my forefathers, so now bring me their likes.”[59]

[2] Sprenger, Forward to A Biographical Dictionary of Persons Who Knew Mohammad, vol.1, p.1. He then writes, “If the biographical records of the Musalmans were collected, we should probably have accounts of the lives of half a million of distinguished persons, and it would be found that there is not a decennium of their history, nor a place of importance which has not its representatives.” There is a degree of exaggeration in these figures, but there is no doubt that the Muslim civilization is peerless in this accomplishment. See: Abū Ghuddah, Lamahāt, p.163.

[3] Imāms al-Ghazālī (d. 505 AH) and al-Nawawī (d. 676 AH) explain six instances where speaking about the faults of others is lawful and at times even necessary. The fourth instance is to caution others from the evils of an individual, which includes narrator criticism. See: al-Ghazālī, Ihyā’ ‘Ulūm al-Dīn, vol.3, pp.152-153; al-Nawawī, Riyād al-Sālihīn, pp.425-426.

[4] Such as the verse, “O you who believe, if a wicked person brings you any news, examine it carefully, lest you should harm some people in ignorance and afterwards you may have to repent for what you did” [Surat al-Hujurāt, verse 6].

[9] In a treatise entitled “Dhikr Man Yu‘tamad Qawluhū fi al-Jarh wa al-Ta‘dīl,” al-Dhahabī lists the narrator critics beginning from the end of the Companion’s age until his day. Notwithstanding his omission of a number of key figures, he managed to gather the names of 715 critics dividing them into 22 classes. In his seminal work al-I‘lān bī al-Tawbīkh, al-Sakhāwī summarized the above treatise and added names of scholars until his day; a total of 210 figures. See: al-Sakhāwī, al-I‘lān bī al-Tawbīkh, p.320 ff. Both lists can be found in the four treatise collection “Arba‘ Rasā’il fī ‘Ulūm al-Hadīth” of Shaykh ‘Abd al-Fattāh Abū Ghuddah. Tāj al-Dīn al-Subkī (d. 771 AH) enumerates the prolific memorizers (huffāż), starting with Abū Bakr (Allāh be pleased with him) and concluding with al-‘Alā’ī (d. 761 AH); a total of 212 figures. See: al-Subkī, Tabaqāt al-Shāfi‘iyyah al-Kubrā, vol.1, pp.314-318. Note that none of these lists were intended to be exhaustive. See: Abū Ghuddah, Preface to Dhkir Man Yu‘tamad Qawluhū, pp.163-166. For a list of names that could have been added, see: Abū Guddah, Preface to al-Mutakallimūn fī al-Rijāl, p.84-85. Another beneficial read is Scott Lucas’ analyses of seven lists and three tabaqāt presentations of Hadīth critics. See: Lucas, Constructive Critics, pp.113-126.

[12] Ibn ‘Adī, al-Kāmil fī Du‘afā’ al-Rijāl, pp.172, 177, 179. Ibn ‘Adī goes on to enumerate a number of others from this generation. Ibn Rajab al-Hanbalī writes that the first narrator critic was Ibn Sīrīn (Sharh ‘Ilal al-Tirmidhī, vol.1 p.355) while al-Dhahabī writes that it was al-Sha‘bī (Dhikr man Yu‘tamad, p.172). Since these critics were all working around the same time, it is understandable why later scholars would arrive at different conclusions. Nevertheless, this difference is in respect to those who proceeded the Companions, as al-Dhahabī explains.

[13] Al-Dhahabī, Dhikr Man Yu‘tamad Qawluhū, p.173; al-Sakhāwī, al-I‘lān bī al-Tawbīkh, p.320. This should not lead one to think that the era of the Successors was void of weak transmitters. Yes, there were unreliable narrators, but they were few in comparison to subsequent generations. By way of illustration, we can look at al-Bukhārī’s book on weak transmitters entitled “al-Du‘afā’ al-Saghīr.“ From a total of 418 entries, he included only 79 Successor entries—that is, 19%—keeping in mind that most of these entries are for junior Successors. See: al-Hasanī, Ma‘rifat Madār al-Isnād, vol.1, pp.385-388.

[15] A quadripartite narrator categorization supposedly formulated by ‘Alī ibn Abī Tālib goes as follows: ‘Alī was asked about the hadiths of innovation and contradictory reports in circulation, so he replied, “Indeed people are in possession of [the following types of reports] truth and falsehood, abrogator and abrogated, general and specific, perspicuous and intricate, and preserved and flawed.” After stating that fabrication began during the Prophet’s lifetime, ‘Alī mentions four categories of narrators: (1) a Hypocrite who knowingly lies about the Prophet (2) one who heard the Prophet but did not retain properly and therefore erred (3) one who heard a ruling from the Prophet but did not hear the later abrogation (4) one who does not lie about Allah or His Prophet and retained what he heard properly. He then says that the words of the Prophet were sometimes misunderstood by the listener, and that the Companions would anticipate for villagers to come and ask the Prophet so they can also benefit. See: al-Sharīf, Nahj al-Balāghah, p.229-231; al-Qāsimī, Qawā‘id al-Tahdīth, p.162.

There are problems with both the transmission and content of this report. First, it features in Nahj al-Balāghah, a collection of sayings attributed to ‘Alī ibn Abī Tālib. Either ‘Alī ibn al-Husayn al-Murtadā (d. 436 AH) or his brother Muhammad ibn al-Husayn al-Radī (d. 406 AH) is accused of fabricating the reports found therein. Regardless of who compiled the book, as al-Dhahabī explains, the problematic content is sufficient proof to negate its attribution to ‘Alī. See: al-Dhahabī, Mīzān al-I‘tidāl, vol.3, p.124, no.5827; Siyar A‘lām al-Nubalā’, vol.17, pp.286/589. Second, Rashīd Ridā (d. 1935 AH) mentions eight reasons why the content of this report is flawed. For instance, there is a clear anachronistic usage of technical terms (e.g. naskh, ‘ām, and muhkam). Furthermore, this is obviously a partisan attempt to cast doubt on the integrity of majority of the Companions. See: Ridā, al-Manār, vol.34, pp.621-624.

It is worth adding that the tripartite classification cited on the authority of ‘Ali in Usūl al-Shāshī, a Hanafī primer on legal theory, appears to be a paraphrase of the above report. See: al-Shāshī, Usūl al-Shāshī, pp.422-423.

[16] Muslim, al-Tamyīz, p.179. As a side note, the title of the given reference is al-Tamyīz (lit. to distinguish) because the author distinguishes therein errors from accurate transmission. See: al-Hasanī, Ma‘rifat Madār al-Isnād, vol.1, p.65.

[17] Muslim, Introduction to al-Musnad al-Sahīh, pp.5-7. His tripartite classification is: (1) reliable transmitters in whose transmission there is no severe disagreement (2) a lower class who are of virtue and truthful, but are not recognized with outstanding memory and precision (3) accused transmitters and those whose narrations for the most part are detestable or errors. See: al-Lāhim, al-Jarh wa al-Ta‘dīl, p.292. For an important clarification on this categorization, see: ‘Awwāmah, Preface to Musannaf Ibn Abī Shaybah, vol.1, pp.102-105/Dirāsāt al-Kāshif, pp.188-192. In al-Tamyīz, Muslim speaks of three types of narrators in respect to memorization: (1) the prolific memorizer whose memory is brilliant and who avoids what is to be avoided (2) the lax transmitter whose memory fails— by erring or faltering in response to altered hadiths (talqīn) (3) whose focus is memorizing hadith texts without their chains of transmission thereby being negligent in memorizing the tradition; he errs thereafter by attributing them to the incorrect source. See: Muslim, al-Tamyīz, p.170.

[23] Al-Rāzī, al-Jarh wa al-Ta‘dīl, vol.2, p.32. By placing a number of terms in one category does not necessitate that they are equal in indication. For example, the terms thiqah and mutqin are placed in one category, but are not equal. See: ‘Awwāmah, Footnotes on Tadrīb al-Rāwī, vol.4, pp.178-179. He substantiates the categorization of these expressions from a report where ‘Abd al-Rahmān ibn Mahdī is asked, “Is Abū Khaldah reliable?” and he replies, “He is truthful and trustworthy, but Sufyān and Shu‘bah are reliable.” See: al-Rāzī, al-Jarh wa al-Ta‘dīl, vol.2, p.37.

[28] Ibn Hajar, Nuzhat al-Nażar, pp.133-134. It should be noted that the six class categorization outlined in the introduction to his al-Taqrīb is specific to that book and should not be extended elsewhere. See: ‘Awwāmah, Introduction to al-Taqrīb, p.26.

[35] Al-‘Uqaylī, Kitābal-Du‘afā’, vol.3, p.30. Al-Dhahabī said, “He is a liar if he did this intentionally. But if he was confused with ‘Atā’ ibn al-Sā’ib, he will be abandoned for poor memory.” See: al-Dhahabī, Mizān al-I‘tidāl, vol.2, p.360. For another example, see: al-Bagdādī, Tārīkh Baghdād, vol.8, p.184.

[36] On the usage of this form of examination, see: al-Sakhāwī, Fath al-Mughīth, vol.2, pp.137-140. Ibn Hajar writes that it is permissible to shuffle the chain or text of a hadith to examine a narrator on condition that it is done only for the required time. See: Ibn Hajar, Nuzhat al-Nażar, p.96.

[38] While describing the 33rd chapter of his book Ma‘rifat ‘Ulūm al-Hadīth, al-Hākim writes, “This chapter pertains to hadith discussions and distinguishing thereby. And through discussions a truthful narrator can be recognized from one who is not, because a person who is reckless during [hadīth] discussions will be reckless in narrating hadīths.” See: al-Hākim, Ma‘rifat ‘Ulūm al-Hadīth, p.140.

[42] Ahmad al-‘Ijlī’s (d. 261 AH) work, famously known as al-Thiqāt, is not specific to reliable transmitters contrary to what the popular title would have its readers assume. The correct title of the book, in light of a sixth century manuscript and quotes from authoritative scholars, is “al-Tārīkh.” See: al-‘Awnī, al-‘Unwān al-Sahīh li al-Kitāb, pp.71-74.

[43] It appears that Ibn Hibbān incorporated majority, if not all, of the entries of al-Bukhārī’s al-Tārīkh al-Kabīr into both his al-Thiqāt and al-Majrūhīn. See: al-‘Arabī, al-Farā’id ‘alā Majma‘ al-Zawā’id, pp.92, 256.

[44] Early literature on the Tārīkh genre was predominantly based on occurrences (e.g. al-Tabarī’s Tārīkh) and less so on entries (e.g. al-Bukhārī’s Tārīkh). During the sixth century, however, there was a shift in interest and the Tārīkh genre began to see a new trend of working with entries; perhaps an influence from Hadīth studies. See: Ma‘rūf, Introduction to Tārīkh al-Islām, p.89.

[45] Shaykh ‘Abd Allāh al-Ghumārī states that Ibn Hibbān authored two distinct works on unreliable transmitters, al-Majrūhīn, which is easily accessible, and al-Du‘afā’. He owned a copy of al-Du‘afā’, which varied completely from the other work, in his personal library until it got lost while mailing it to his brother Ahmad. See: ‘Awwāmah, Footnotes on Tadrīb al-Rāwī, vol.3, p.82.

[46] Al-Dhahabī used al-Kāmil as a foundation for Mizān al-I‘tidāl, which in turn formed the basis of Ibn Hajar’s Lisān al-Mīzān. Ibn Hajar incorporated an addendum to Mizān al-I‘tidāl authored by his teacher al-‘Irāqī. And Shaykh Hātim al-‘Awnī further authored a useful addendum to Lisān al-Mīzān.

[47] Al-Bukhārī’s book should not be understood as a conventional work on narrator criticism. Yes, he evaluates a small number of transmitters by the way, but overall it is only a biographical dictionary. This can be seen from the correct title of the book “al-Tabaqāt wa al-Tārīkh” as mentioned by al-‘Askarī (d. 382 AH). See: ‘Awwāmah, Footnotes on Tadrīb al-Rāwī, vol.5, p.542/Majālis fi Qawlihī Ta‘ālā, p.229; al-‘Askarī, Tashīfāt al-Muhaddithīn vol.1, p.116/vol.2, p.629. Contrast this with Shaykh ‘Abd al-Rahmān al-Mu‘allimī’s observation, “It is al-Bukhārī’s practice to cite a report in al-Tārīkh only to demonstrate the weakness of its transmitter.” See: al-Mu‘allimī, Footnotes on al-Fawā’id al-Majmū‘ah, p.180; cf. al-‘Arabī, al-Farā’id ‘alā Majma‘ al-Zawā’id, p.65. Also see the comment attributed to al-Bukhārī in: al-Mizzī, Tahdhīb al-Kamāl, vol.18, p.265; cf. al-Dirīs, al-Hadīth al-Hasan, vol.1, pp.406-415.

[51] See: al-Juday‘, Tahrīr ‘Ulūm al-Hadīth, pp.525-527. In view of the stringent conditions to qualify for narrator criticism, it is no wonder that the number of expert critics are so few. See: al-Biqā‘ī, al-Nukat al-Wafiyyah, vol.1, p.290.

[54] A prime example is discrepancies due to regional differences between the Mashāriqah and Maghāribah. In a research paper on the subject, Shaykh Ibrāhīm al-Ghumārī examines errors on the part of some Mashriqī scholars in evaluating Maghribī transmitters. He begins with a theoretical discussion where he, inter alia, enumerates the causes for these discrepancies, such as unfamiliarity with maghribī script and deterioration of manuscripts due to late receipt. He then follows it by presenting five case studies thereby concluding the paper. See his treatise entitled “Namādhij min Awhām al-Nuqqād al-Mashāriqah fī al-Ruwwāh al-Maghāribah.”